“Ladd,” said Joe Kipp, breaking a long silence that followed their departure from the Basset ranch, “how long was you at the lone cottonwood afore yuh let me see yuh?”
“Mebbeso half an hour, Kipp. I laid in the brush watchin’ yuh.”
“Figgered yuh must ’a’ bin cold-trailin’ me er you’d uh ketched up with me long afore yuh did. I’d kinda like tuh know jest how yuh figger me out.”
“That’s a hard question, pardner. Dang me if I kin read yore hand even when I’ve had a look at yore hole card. The sign all says that yo’re playin’ a double game. Yet I’d shore hate tuh think it.”
“I’m obliged, Ladd. I hope tuh clear some things up afore many hours. Supposin’ I tell yuh that by comin’ along with me now, yo’re hinderin’ instead uh helpin’ things?”
“’Twouldn’t keep me from comin’, Kipp. Not when my Shorty pardner is mixed up in the deal. I aim tuh see it through, regardless.”
Tad’s tone and the look in his eyes forbade further argument.
“You heerd me and Black Jack talkin’?”
“Only some, when yuh raised yore voices. I heered enough tuh sabe that you was aimin’ tuh lay fer Fox, that was about all.”