“You got reason tuh want Fox killed. Yet yuh kept me from doin’ it. Why?”
“Because, like I said, I knowed you wa’n’t that sort uh man and it wouldn’t he’p none tuh kill Fox from the brush. I reckon yo’re goin’ tuh clear up things if yuh kin and I’ll lend a hand if the play comes up. I hope yuh come out winners, Kipp.”
“Yet yuh won’t trust me tuh go alone?”
“Not when Shorty’s needin’ me, no.” Again an uncomfortable silence fell over them, unbroken till they reached the edge of the bad-lands.
“There’ll be a man on guard farther along this trail,” said Kipp. “If I ride up alone, he’ll let me pass. If you come along, there’ll be shootin’ and we’ll lose a horse apiece and go back afoot. Will yuh trust me to go that far by myself? I’ll signal yuh from that bald knoll when I’ve cleared the trail.”
Tad pondered this for a long moment as he searched Kipp’s eyes. Apparently satisfied with what he read in the older man’s face, he nodded briefly.
“I’ll wait half an hour, Kipp. Then I’ll be comin’, regardless uh ary signal. Them that tries tuh stop me will find they got a game.”
Kipp nodded and, leaving Tad squatted on the ground rolling a cigaret, rode on.
Tad consulted a battered silver-cased watch and shoved it back in his overall pocket. A squint at the sun told him that dusk was but an hour distant. Smoke curling lazily from his nostrils, he watched Kipp out of sight.
Despite Kipp’s apparent duplicity, Tad liked the white-haired old man and felt certain that he was not being tricked. There had been an indefinable something in the sheriff’s eyes that puzzled Tad. He felt certain that whatever hold Fox and Black Jack had on Kipp, it must be a terrible one. He knew that Kipp’s momentary lapse of physical courage was a minor point. There was something far greater than any fear of physical pain that threatened the sheriff. Now Kipp was about to break that hold. What would be the outcome?