“Danged lonesome ride at night,” observed Skelton.
Sleepy came up from the corral and sat down on the steps.
“What’s the matter, long feller?” he asked as he noticed Hashknife’s thoughtful expression.
“That’s what Easton likely wants,” mused Hashknife, ignoring Sleepy’s question. “A feller don’t lie in a letter without havin’ some kind of an ax to grind.”
“Lemme in on it, will you?” asked Sleepy.
“Spot Easton just went past in a top-buggy, and he’s headin’ for Gunsight.”
“That’s good. I reckon we can get along without him.”
“But,” said Hashknife slowly, “you gotta figure that the girl’s only eighteen years old. She won’t sabe Spot Easton.”
“I dunno much about human nature,” said Sleepy, “but I do know danged well that I’m hungry. Don’t we ever eat on this new job, Bliz?”
“Y’betcha,” grinned Skelton. “I’m goin’ t’ rustle some bull-beef and bakin’-powder biscuits right now. I was just wonderin’ why that rifle never showed up at the inquest.”