Billy Wingo raised his eyes and stared at the marshal.
"How's that, umpire?" said Billy.
"He's raving," snapped the marshal.
"A man speaks the truth when he's thataway," rebuked Billy. "I'm going to see about this."
But the marshal blocked his way. "I told you——" he began.
"Get out of my way!" directed Billy, his gray eyes ablaze.
The marshal got. After all, he had no specific orders to prevent a meeting between Jack Murray and Billy Wingo. Let Jack look out for himself. No doubt Rafe and sundry other of his friends would be annoyed, but it couldn't be helped. The marshal betook himself hurriedly to the back room of the Freedom Saloon.
Billy, coldly purposeful, made a round of the saloons first. In none of them did he find his man or news of him. Finally, from the stage company's hostler tending a cripple outside the company corral, he learned that Jack had left town.
"Which he went surging off down the Hillsville trail," said the hostler, "like he hadn't a minute to lose. He told me he was going to Hillsville."
"Told you?" Surprisedly.