He saw Racey Dawson picking up the two pieces of the note. Racey's mouth was a grim, uncompromising line.
"If Racey ever finds out who wrote that," thought Kansas to himself, pulling the door shut, "hell will shore pop. And I hope it does."
For he liked Racey Dawson, did Kansas Casey, the deputy sheriff.
CHAPTER XV
FIRE! FIRE!
"Why didn't you tell me at breakfast?" demanded Swing Tunstall.
"And give it away to Jack Harpe!" said scornful Racey. "Shore, that would 'a' been a bright thing to do now, wouldn't it?"
"What didja do with the knife?"
"Dropped it through a knothole in the wall. The only way they'll ever get hold of it is by tearing the building down."
"Jack Harpe, if he is the feller, will know you found it and try again."