“I think so, Reimer. Anyway, I saw a man of that description ridin’ my gray horse.”
“Why didn’t yuh kill him?”
“Didn’t think of it in time. I was wonderin’ what he’s doin’ around here. After I find out, I’ll probably have to kill him.”
“Well, don’t wait too long. I tell yuh, the man’s a dirty snake.”
“You didn’t seem to think so the mornin’ I first came to yore place, Reimer.”
“Yeah, I did; but—well, he’d been with me a long time. Yuh see—” confidentially—“I had a quarrel with him, and I told him I’d kill him if he didn’t leave the country. I can’t tell yuh any more about it. I suppose his horse went lame; so he traded with yuh.”
“And then came back to get yuh, eh?”
Butch’s eyes shifted nervously.
“I’ll be damned if I know, Hartley. But I’m scared he mistook Eddie Corby for me last night. I ain’t got a bit of evidence ag’in’ him—but somebody made a mistake. Corby never had an enemy around here. He never done anythin’ to make an enemy.”
“He must be pretty sore at yuh, Reimer.”