“I loaned Honey to the HJ,” laughed Bellew. “I’ve still got Eph Harper and Slim Coleman on my hands. Ma says that’s two men too many. She allus says I’m tryin’ to make a mountain out of a molehill—meanin’ that I can’t ever hire enough men to make the Lazy B a big cow-outfit.”
While they were drinking a man came in whom the bartender seemed to know. It was the telegraph operator at the depot. He bought a drink and a cigar.
“I suppose the sheriff is hunting bandits,” he said.
“We seen him out at the HJ this morn-in’,” offered Honey.
The man nodded.
“I was just over to his office, but there wasn’t anybody home. Had a telegram for him from Ransome. They found a little gold penknife in the express car. It didn’t belong to the messenger, he said. The wire said there were the initials J. R. on the handle.”
“J. R.?” said Honey. “Little gold knife! My gosh, that’s the knife Peggy gave Joe for his birthday!”
“I dunno,” said the man vacantly. “All I know is what the wire said. I reckon it will keep until the sheriff gets back.”
He went out, and Merrick laughed softly.
“He guesses it will keep. Ha, ha, ha, ha!”