“Nope,” Cates sighed deeply. “This is no job for a man like me. What this needs is a man like Hashknife Hartley.”
“Hashknife Hartley?”
Kelsey pricked up his ears and took his feet off the desk. Jack Ralston showed proper interest.
Cates nodded slowly as he bit the end off a cigar.
“Yes, he might do something with it. Ever hear of him?”
“What about him?” asked Kelsey quickly.
Cates smiled as he puffed his cigar.
“I never met him,” he said slowly. “One of those sagebrush Sherlocks, I suppose. Maybe I hadn’t ought to make fun of him—he did some good work for my company. Oh, I’ve heard a lot about what he has done. It’s our business to keep track of all those things, you see. But some of it sounds rather mythical.”
“Well, that’s shore funny,” said Kelsey. “There’s a Hartley and Stevens out at the HJ ranch right now.”
“Eh?” Cates stared at Kelsey. “Hashknife Hartley?”