“Wait a minute!” snorted Honey. “You let up on that departed critter, or I’ll—I’ll⸺”
“All right, Honey.”
“About how long had the animal been dead, Slim?” asked Hashknife.
“Well, I’ll tell yuh, Hartley. Judgin’ from the⸺”
“Oh!” exploded Honey.
He kicked back his chair and tramped out through the kitchen to the rear of the house, where he sat down on the well-curb and rolled a smoke.
Slim reached across the table, removed an egg from Honey’s plate and placed it on his own.
“I can allus git extra food thataway,” he grinned. “Honey ain’t very strong. Too much ’magination, I’d say.”
They finished their supper and went down to the bunk-house. Slim wanted to play pitch. Hashknife declined to be a party to any card arguments; so he stayed out of the game and went back to the ranch-house, where he found Wong Lee serving supper to Peggy and Laura.
No reference was made to Slim’s statement about the reward, but it was rather difficult to find any conversation that did not connect with the troubles of Tumbling River. Laura essayed a few pieces of music on the old upright organ, while Peggy curled up in an old rocker, her chin on one hand. Hashknife sprawled on the sofa, his long legs crossed, while the blue smoke curled up from his cigarette.