“Yeah, you know a ⸺ of a lot about it,” snorted Honey.
“Well, it allus works out that way.”
“It does, eh? I suppose yuh knowed two months ago that Joe Rich would turn out bad. What do yuh use—palmistry or one of them glass balls?”
“Aw, yuh don’t need to get sore, Honey.”
“Thasso? Every time I think about Joe, I get sore. I wish I knowed where he was hidin’ out.”
“Me, too,” grinned Kelsey. “I’d be a thousand better off.”
“Yea-a-a-ah? Well, when you find out where he is, yuh better take plenty of help along to get him, Len; two of yuh ain’t enough.”
Kelsey could see that the argument might wax rather hot; so he got to his feet, stretched wearily and told Ralston they better be going. Nobody asked them to stay. Honey looked after them morosely.
“Don’t like ’em, eh?” queried Hashknife.
“No! You boys go ahead and hitch up the team. I’ve got to tell the girls about that robbery. I sure as ⸺ hate to tell Peggy that they think Joe pulled that job, but I’d rather tell her than to have her get it from somebody else.”