Siebert gasped foolishly, whirled on his heel and almost ran into the kitchen. He grasped the heavy kitchen table, whirled it aside and started to drop to one knee. Then he swung around. Dutch Siebert was beginning to think. His hand jerked back to his gun, but he moved too late.
Hashknife was on top of him, driving him against the wall, while Hashknife’s right hand, gripping a heavy gun, described a short downward arc, and Dutch Siebert ceased to think for a while.
Hashknife picked up Dutch’s gun, ran to the doorway and wig-wagged wildly with both arms. Sleepy and Slim broke from the fringe of brush and came running across the yard.
“One of yuh go to the stable and get a rope!” yelled Hashknife.
Sleepy veered off and headed for the stable.
“Did the soap and water work?” asked Slim, panting from his run.
“It always works,” grinned Hashknife. “C’mon in.”
CHAPTER IX: THE INQUEST
“Have you seen anythin’ of Slim Coleman, Len?” Curt Bellew leaned in through the doorway of the sheriff’s office and spoke to Kelsey, who was oiling a gun.
“Ain’t seen him,” said Kelsey shortly.