“Gets dark quick around here,” he said. “I reckon it’s plumb safe to saddle up now. That bushwhacker likely went away as soon as he fired that one shot.”
“Saddle up? What for, f’r gosh sake?”
Sleepy settled back comfortably in his chair.
“Me and you are goin’ to Caldwell.”
“What fer?”
“That inquest is tomorrow afternoon, Sleepy.”
“Oh, I see,” said Sleepy sarcastically. “’Fraid you’ll be late if you don’t start now?”
“You might put it thataway,” admitted Hashknife. “We’ll be back kinda late, Skelton, I reckon; so I’ll call m’ name when we come home.”
Skelton nodded dubiously and said:
“’S your own business, Hartley, and I reckon you can take care of yourself. I dunno what you got on your mind, but I wish you well.”