“Yuh mean tuh say yuh never heerd tell uh Fox?”
“We’re plumb strangers, mister. Let’s have it. Both barrels.”
“He couldn’t help hearin’ them remarks,” mumbled the sheriff, musing aloud. “Hmmm. ——’s tuh pay all around.”
“But you was goin’ to tell us about this Fox,” hinted Tad.
“Was I? I reckon not. I don’t talk to nobody about that gent.”
The sheriff’s tone was decisive.
Tad, glancing covertly at the old sheriff, caught a glimpse of tightly clamped jaws. Beneath shaggy white brows, the sheriff’s keen eyes smoldered with some inner fire. It was a dogged, sullen look, strangely out of keeping with the general make up of the grizzled law officer.
“Yuh don’t mean tuh say that ole scarecrow has yuh buffaloed?” put in Shorty, wincing as Tad’s spur raked his shin with meaning vigor.
The sheriff turned on Shorty, eyes ablaze with hot resentment.
“Who said I was scared? Whoever told yuh that, lied. Lied, hear me?”