“No, sir, an’ I ain’t aimin’ to be either. If I knew anything I’d tell you, but I can’t tell you what I don’t know, can I?”
The young man was no match for the sheriff. Before Matson had left the place he knew all that King did.
Forty-eight hours later the sheriff with a posse rode up to the Circle Diamond Ranch. Rowan McCoy was sitting on the porch oiling a gun. The first glance told him that Matson had two prisoners, the second that they were Falkner and Silcott.
Matson swung from the saddle and came up the steps to the porch.
“I’ve got bad news for you, Mac,” he said bluntly. “You’re under arrest.”
The cattleman did not bat an eye. “What for?” he asked evenly.
“For killing Gilroy and Tait.”
“The damn fool’s going around arrestin’ everybody he knows, Mac,” broke in Falkner.
McCoy observed that Falkner was hand-cuffed and that Silcott was not.
He asked the sheriff a question. “Do I understand that you’ve arrested Hal an’ Larry for this, too?”