“Well, we ain’t goin’—jist yet. Arizona won’t move away, will it? Git off that bronc and let’s find a place to sleep.”
“We-e-e-ell, all right,” grudgingly. “I suppose I’ve got to go through life humorin’ yuh, feller. I hope some day to have my own way in somethin’.”
But Sleepy knew Hashknife’s true feelings in the matter; knew that it would break Hashknife’s heart to go away and leave Ghost in the hands of some one else. And he knew that the puzzle of the train robbery was calling Hashknife to action.
With all Sleepy’s objections to working with Hashknife in solving these range mysteries, he was just as eager to mix into them as was Hashknife.
Scotty McKay went with them to the livery stable and to the hotel. When they went back to the office they found Slim talking with Merkle. After Merkle went away Slim called Hashknife aside.
“You heard some of the talk about old Rance McCoy beatin’ the Eagle games out of close to eight thousand, didn’t yuh?” asked Slim.
Hashknife said he had.
“Well,” continued Slim, “here’s the queer part of it. The old man drew seventy-five hundred from the bank that day—every cent he had. Now, he won close to eight thousand, which would make his roll close to sixteen thousand dollars. To-day, so Merkle tells me, the old man borrowed five hundred from the bank.”
“And you think the old man robbed that train, eh?”
“Who told yuh that?”