“Yes,” he went on evenly, “I once earmarked him so that I’d know him again in case we met.”
“I beg pardon. You—what?”
“Earmarked him. Figure of speech, ma’am. You may not have observed that the curly-headed person behind the guns was shy the forefinger of his right hand. We had a little difficulty once when he was resisting arrest, and it just happened that my gun fanned away his trigger finger.” He added reminiscently:
“A good boy, too, Neil was once. We used to punch together on the Hashknife. A straight-up rider, the kind a fellow wants when Old Man Trouble comes knocking at the door. Well, I reckon he’s a miscreant now, all right.”
“They knew you—at least two of them did.”
“I’ve been pirootin’ around this country, boy and man, for fifteen years. I ain’t responsible for every yellow dog that knows me,” he drawled.
“And I noticed that when you told them not to rob the children and not to touch me they did as you said.”
“Hypnotism,” he suggested, with a smile.
“So, not being a child, I put two and two together and draw an inference.”
He seemed to be struggling with his mirth. “I see you do. Well, ma’am, I’ve been most everything since I hit the West, but this is the first time I’ve been taken for a train robber.”