“Nothin’. Oh, he’s sober now. He realizes what he’s up against. Merkle tried to get him to talk, and he laughed at Merkle when Merkle told him he’d let him off easy if he told where the money was cached. Then he got mad and cursed Merkle up one side and down the other.”
“Has Angel been down to see him?” asked Mrs. Parker.
“No. Oh, he probably will—if I let him. Mebby I won’t. No use rubbin’ it in on the old man. He’ll have his hearing in a few days, and they’ll bind him over to the next term of court. Merkle says he’ll convict Rance.”
“They tell me that old Chuckwalla was sore,” said Parker.
“I guess he was! Swears he’ll dynamite the jail.”
“Well, look out for him, Slim,” seriously. “He’s capable of doing just that thing. What’s this I hear about Kid Glover stealing Hartley’s horse in Welcome?”
“It’s true, Jim. The Kid left the Half-Box R and traded horses in Welcome. Nobody knows where he is now.”
“Does Hartley expect him back?”
Slim smiled over the manufacture of a cigarette.
“Nobody knows, Jim. That tall cowboy listens all the time, and when he talks it’s to ask questions. Pretty much of a human being, that Hashknife Hartley. Thinks a lot. Thinks about everything, I reckon. Well, I’ve got to be gettin’ back, folks. I was so danged mad, I had to come over and blow off steam.”