“I’ve still got the paper, Chuckwalla.”
“Hell’s delight!” Chuckwalla yanked viciously at his mustache. “How could Angel borrow seventy-eight hundred from DuMond—unless——”
“Unless what?”
“Unless DuMond robbed that train.”
“Yeah, he might,” reflected Hashknife. “It was the same amount they tell me Rance McCoy won from Angel.”
“By God, that’s right! Mebby DuMond loaned him that much. But DuMond is dead and he can’t never collect. I’ll bet Angel’s glad. He’s the kind who would be glad.”
“You ain’t got much use for Angel, eh?”
“The pup! Rance ort to have wrung his neck when he was young. He shore caused Rance plenty grief.”
“What did Rance think about Lila leavin’ him?”
Chuckwalla shook his head slowly and turned back to the stove.