The young man looked at him with suspicion and alarm. “Why, all right, I reckon. How’s cases with you, Sheriff?”
“I hear you had a little talk with Hal Falkner the night of the raid. Do you remember exactly what he said to you?”
“Why, no. I don’t remember a thing about it,” the young man returned uneasily. He knew his tongue had once more tripped him up.
“You will if you think hard, don’t you reckon? You remembered it well enough to tell Flanders and Mrs. Henson. I’ll start you off. Falkner an’ you were discussing the reason why so many men left camp after supper. He told you Larry Silcott had told him Tait was across the dead line again. Recollect that?”
“Why, no. I don’t guess I do, Sheriff.”
“You’d better, Dunc, onless you want to get into mighty serious trouble.”
“Sho! Nothing to that, Sheriff. Nothing a-tall. I might’ve got to shootin’ off my mouth the way I sometimes do. Kinda playin’ like I was on the inside, y’ understand.”
“Or, on the other hand, you might be trying to duck out from responsibility, Dunc. Don’t make any mistakes, boy. You’re going to come through with what you know.”
“But I’m tellin’ you I don’t know a thing,” the boy protested.
“Not what you told several other people. How about it, Dunc? You want to be an accessory to this crime?”