“Unless he hides his light under a bushel, Kelsey.”
“Uh-huh. Well, Joe Rich don’t hide his, that’s a cinch.”
Hashknife grinned widely.
“You’ve got to admire him, just the same. He’s operatin’ in his own country, and he ain’t tryin’ to disguise himself a whole lot. And it looks to me as though he’s makin’ a monkey out of yore office.”
“What do yuh mean, Hartley?”
“By stayin’ around here. It don’t look to me as though he was scared of yuh, Kelsey.”
“I see what yuh mean.”
“Well, can’t I induce you to work with us, Hartley?” asked Cates. “I can put you on the pay-roll in thirty minutes after I get back to town. I tell you, I’m helpless; and the sheriff admits that he can’t do anything.”
Hashknife shook his head slowly.
“No-o-o, I’m not interested, Cates. As I said before it’s just a case of goin’ out and gettin’ a man who knows every blade of grass in this country by its first name. What the sheriff ought to do is to make up a posse and comb this whole country. He must be hidin’ in the valley.”