“Nope. But if he’s ridin’ my gray horse, he’s been around here lately.”
“How do yuh make that out?”
“Found the track of my horse.”
Butch laughed shortly.
“Yuh don’t mean to say yuh know the track of yore horse, do yuh, Hartley?”
“Yeah. Shod him myself, Butch.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Butch drew the brim of his hat farther down over his eyes as he looked out across the broken hills.
“Kinda funny, ain’t it—him comin’ back?”
“What’s funny about it?” demanded Butch.