“I suppose it is,” she sighed. “But I can’t see where it will help anybody. If the law gets him—”
“Mebbe—and mebbe not.”
“What do you mean, Hashknife?”
“I was just thinkin’ out loud, Peggy. Yuh quit worryin’ about things.” He patted her on the arm. “We’ll be back for supper, and I’ll want to see yuh grinnin’.”
Hashknife went out to his horse, which was the one Jim Wheeler had ridden the day he was killed. Hashknife noticed that the animal was a trifle sore-footed; so he examined its hoofs and found that it wore no shoes.
He pulled the saddle off and put it on a chunky bay, turning the sore-footed one back in the corral. The bay was shod in front.
“Jim said somethin’ about’ goin’ to have that bronc shod,” said Honey. “I remember him speakin’ about it a week before he was killed.”
“I hate to see a horse limp,” said Hashknife. “I’d a lot rather walk.”
They rode to Pinnacle City and Hashknife left Sleepy and Honey at the Pinnacle Saloon, where several more cowboys were arguing at the bar. After inquiring at the store, Hashknife found old Doctor Curzon’s office.
The old doctor was not busy. He considered Hashknife gravely when Hashknife asked him about the death of Jim Wheeler.