“Forget what you know, Honey,” warned Sleepy. “The rest of yuh don’t know a thing; sabe? The bank was cleaned out by a lone bandit fifteen minutes ahead of our smash. The man Honey found was Warner, the cashier. He was roped and gagged, but he wasn’t knocked out.”
“F’r ⸺’s sake!” snorted Honey. “That was it, eh?”
“Yeah, and we better all head for home,” advised Sleepy. “We don’t know a thing. The bank is as clean as a hound’s tooth and the man who cleaned it out wore silver stars on his cuffs and used a white-handled gun. Let’s mosey.”
They all got their horses and headed out of town, the Heavenly Triplets going to the Flying H, while Honey and Sleepy rode swiftly out to the HJ where they woke Hashknife in the bunk-house and told him their story. He sat up in bed and smoked a cigaret, his lean fingers scratching at his unruly hair.
“It looks to me as though Joe Rich missed his callin’ when he got himself elected sheriff,” he said slowly. “That boy shore is featherin’ his nest. And yuh had Mr. Cates laid out in the hearse, eh?”
“Fit to be buried,” nodded Sleepy. “I reckon he was the only one that didn’t do a high dive. That little cashier shore was scared. The robber told him he’d either open the safe or get a front seat at the explosion. And he held a match while the cashier worked the combination. By golly, it’s so easy to do a thing like that, that I wonder why men work for a dollar a day! It’s shore easy money.”
“Easy to get, uneasy to keep, Sleepy.”
“Yea-a-a-ah! Who in ⸺ is goin’ to get it away from him? You can preach honesty to me all yuh want to, cowboy, but when I see a job done as easy as that one—”
“Aw, c’mon to bed, and stop yappin’. I want to think.”