“That was the idea,” admitted Slim sadly. He twisted his neck and looked toward the Circle Spade ranch.
“But even at that, you three men saw the animal,” said the prosecutor. “You can swear it was a Circle Spade horse; the riding horse of Rance McCoy.”
“Sure,” nodded Slim quickly. “We saw it, Al. And not only that, but we recognized the old man’s saddle.”
“What kind of a saddle was it?”
Slim looked quickly at Chuck, who scratched his nose and looked at Scotty.
“I can’t tell yuh,” said Scotty. “I seen it, too.”
“Pshaw!” snorted Slim. “We all seen it, Al; but there ain’t a damned one of us that can describe it. I could pick it out, but I can’t describe it.”
“Not such good evidence,” admitted the attorney. “Maybe we better go back to town.”
“Yea-a-ah,” drawled Slim. “Go get yore bronc, Scotty.”