“Not me. Joe Kipp ain’t that kind. Personal, it done me good tuh see that big miner whupped. That —— bartender had it comin’ too.”
“Gosh!”
Tad swallowed a mouthful of food, washed it down with a swallow of coffee and eyed the sheriff in mild surprise.
“’Pears tuh me like you’d had a sudden change uh mind, Sheriff. Yuh acted plumb ringy when yuh nabbed us.”
“Folks was watchin’. The bartender had swore out a complaint and with Fox a-watchin’, I had tuh go through.”
“Yuh mean this Luther Fox gent is after yore taw? He’s rearin’ tuh jump yore frame?”
“Somethin’ like that. Him and me don’t waste no soft-spoke love words on one another.”
He paused, scowling at the floor as if worrying out some problem.
“There’s more than a few gents on this range that’ll tell yuh I’m scared uh Luther Fox and ‘Black Jack’,” he finished.
“Black Jack?”