Daniels rode up and looked down at them. He gave a little nod of greeting.
“How do, Jake—Don? I dropped over to talk with you about that business in Elk Creek Cañon,” he said.
“What about it?” asked Black suspiciously.
“I’d like to hear all you know about it.”
Prowers answered promptly and smoothly. “I don’t know a thing about it, if you’re meanin’ me, except what I’ve heard over the ’phone. The story is, some cattle stampeded an’ a fellow got in their way—”
“Yes, I know the story, Jake,” the sheriff interrupted quietly. “I’m askin’ you what you can tell me about that stampede.”
“Me! Why pick on me?” the wrinkled little man piped. “Didn’t I tell you I didn’t know a thing about it?”
“How about you, Don?” asked Daniels.
“Don don’ know a thing—”
“Talk for himself, can’t he, Jake?” the sheriff wanted to know.