“Yeah?” Kelsey grinned knowingly. “Yuh did, eh? Just what kind of a game are you punchers tryin’ to pull off now?”
“Oh, well, go ahead and be a ⸺ fool,” sighed Sleepy, turning back to the door. “I’m tellin’ yuh what I heard, tha’sall.”
But Kelsey stopped him at the door.
“Yuh think yuh heard a man groanin’, eh?”
“It don’t make any difference,” said Sleepy. “Go on to bed. I’ll find the man that owns the bank, and he’ll probably be interested.”
“If this is a joke—” warned Kelsey picking up his hat.
“I better go and get Warner, the cashier,” said Ralston. “He rooms at MacRae’s place.”
Ralston trotted down the street while Kelsey followed Sleepy back to the front of the bank. They listened at the broken window, which had been barred with some planks, but could hear nothing.
“Yuh probably heard the wind blowing,” said Kelsey.
“What wind?” asked Sleepy.