Len left McLaren and went to the depot, where he sent wires to Kelo and Ransome, notifying the marshals of each place to watch for Joe Rich. And then he went back to his office to nurse his aching arm and swear at himself for half-drawing a six-shooter on a man like Joe Rich.
CHAPTER IV: RANGE FUNERAL
Bad news travels swiftly in the range country and the following morning there was quite a gathering of the clan at the Flying H. People came to extend their sympathy to Peggy Wheeler and to the rest of the Wheeler family. Even the Reverend Henry Lake and his slow-moving old buggy horse showed up at the ranch, the minister dressed in his ancient best.
Aunt Emma Wheeler, Aunt Annie Bellew, Grandma Owens and Mrs. Buck West gathered together and talked in whispers of the white-faced girl upstairs who did not want to talk with anybody, while the men stood around at the rear of the house in the shade of the big cottonwood and drank up the rest of Uncle Hozie’s wedding liquor.
Honey Bee was there, longing for a chance to talk with Laura Hatton. A little later on Len Kelsey, his arm in a sling, rode out. The Heavenly Triplets were sober, but that did not prevent them from making caustic remarks about the sheriff when they saw him coming.
“You let him alone,” ordered Uncle Hozie. “Ain’t there trouble enough, without you startin’ a debate with the law? Lonnie, you haul in yore horns; sabe?”
“Aw, he gives me a itch,” growled Lonnie.
“Go scratch yourself,” advised Uncle Hozie.
Kelsey brought no news of Joe Rich. He said that Ralston and Merrick had ridden through to Kelo, but found no trace of the fugitive. Ralston had come back to Pinnacle City at midnight.
“Yuh didn’t expect to catch him, didja?” asked Nebrasky.