Sunday was a dull day in Turquoise City. Hashknife hardly left Sleepy’s side during the day. Sleepy had regained consciousness and was pretty sick. There was plenty of company. Wind River Jim, his head swathed in bandages, insisted upon playing nurse while Hashknife ate his meals.“That’s the least I can do,” declared Wind River. “If your old leather beck hadn’t deflected that bullet, it would have hit me between the eyes. And between you and Roarin’, you stopped Horse-Collar from chokin’ me to death.”Hashknife told Sleepy about Horse-Collar’s tourniquet, and Sleepy cried tears. Even with all his pain he still retained his overdeveloped sense of humor. Later in the day Horse-Collar came to the hotel. He was sober now and had been talking to Jimmy Moran at the jail.“I been talkin’ with Jimmy,” he told Hashknife confidentially. “He says you’re detectin’. Gosh, I didn’t know that.”“What about it?” asked Hashknife curiously.“Thisaway, Hartley. You can’t detect and set here. Tomorrow I’ll be here. I ain’t much of a good nurse, but I’ll do what I can.”“That’s mighty good of you, Horse-Collar.”“Not p’ticularly. I’m still workin’ for Jimmy, and I take orders from the boss. Old Conley’s out of danger, they say, and I heard that Frank Moran has paid Jimmy’s debts at the Black Horse. I’ll be here in the mornin’.”Jeff Ryker came and talked to Hashknife, trying to see if Hashknife had any idea who had shot Sleepy.“There’s been too much of this shooting going on around here,” declared Ryker earnestly.“Well, you can’t blame it on Pete Conley or Jimmy Moran,” observed Hashknife. “Mebby it’s what you’d call an epidemic of crime.”“That’s what it is. Conley’s trial starts tomorrow. He hasn’t a lawyer to defend him. The court will have to appoint some one to defend him, I suppose, and that will cause a delay. Personally, I don’t think a lawyer would do him any good.”“You think he’s guilty?”“Beyond a doubt. He went out to kill Mallette. Admits it.”“Admits that he wanted to, Ryker.”“I don’t know about that, because I never talked to him; but the evidence is all against him.”Hashknife studied the thin face of the prosecuting attorney—the wry neck inside the misfit collar, the deep-set eyes.“And you was willin’ to kill the case, if that half-breed girl would marry you, eh?” he said coldly.Ryker flushed hotly and shuffled his feet on the old carpet of the hotel.“That—that isn’t true,” he stammered.“I never—”“Why deny it?” queried Hashknife coldly. “You’re not the first man in your position to misuse his power, Ryker. You ain’t settin’ no precedent that I know of.”“Oh, all right, I’m not going to discuss my personal affairs with you, Hartley. What I do is none of your business.”Ryker turned on his heel and walked away.“You stick to your own business then,” said Hashknife.“And you stick to your own,” retorted Ryker hotly.Hashknife laughed softly and went back to Sleepy.The doctor came again that night. Sleepy had not developed any fever, and the doctor was jubilant. In the morning he was stiff and sore, but cheerful. Horse-Collar Fields came fairly early in the morning and offered to stay with Sleepy as long as Hashknife wanted him to stay.
Sunday was a dull day in Turquoise City. Hashknife hardly left Sleepy’s side during the day. Sleepy had regained consciousness and was pretty sick. There was plenty of company. Wind River Jim, his head swathed in bandages, insisted upon playing nurse while Hashknife ate his meals.
“That’s the least I can do,” declared Wind River. “If your old leather beck hadn’t deflected that bullet, it would have hit me between the eyes. And between you and Roarin’, you stopped Horse-Collar from chokin’ me to death.”
Hashknife told Sleepy about Horse-Collar’s tourniquet, and Sleepy cried tears. Even with all his pain he still retained his overdeveloped sense of humor. Later in the day Horse-Collar came to the hotel. He was sober now and had been talking to Jimmy Moran at the jail.
“I been talkin’ with Jimmy,” he told Hashknife confidentially. “He says you’re detectin’. Gosh, I didn’t know that.”
“What about it?” asked Hashknife curiously.
“Thisaway, Hartley. You can’t detect and set here. Tomorrow I’ll be here. I ain’t much of a good nurse, but I’ll do what I can.”
“That’s mighty good of you, Horse-Collar.”
“Not p’ticularly. I’m still workin’ for Jimmy, and I take orders from the boss. Old Conley’s out of danger, they say, and I heard that Frank Moran has paid Jimmy’s debts at the Black Horse. I’ll be here in the mornin’.”
Jeff Ryker came and talked to Hashknife, trying to see if Hashknife had any idea who had shot Sleepy.
“There’s been too much of this shooting going on around here,” declared Ryker earnestly.
“Well, you can’t blame it on Pete Conley or Jimmy Moran,” observed Hashknife. “Mebby it’s what you’d call an epidemic of crime.”
“That’s what it is. Conley’s trial starts tomorrow. He hasn’t a lawyer to defend him. The court will have to appoint some one to defend him, I suppose, and that will cause a delay. Personally, I don’t think a lawyer would do him any good.”
“You think he’s guilty?”
“Beyond a doubt. He went out to kill Mallette. Admits it.”
“Admits that he wanted to, Ryker.”
“I don’t know about that, because I never talked to him; but the evidence is all against him.”
Hashknife studied the thin face of the prosecuting attorney—the wry neck inside the misfit collar, the deep-set eyes.
“And you was willin’ to kill the case, if that half-breed girl would marry you, eh?” he said coldly.
Ryker flushed hotly and shuffled his feet on the old carpet of the hotel.
“That—that isn’t true,” he stammered.
“I never—”
“Why deny it?” queried Hashknife coldly. “You’re not the first man in your position to misuse his power, Ryker. You ain’t settin’ no precedent that I know of.”
“Oh, all right, I’m not going to discuss my personal affairs with you, Hartley. What I do is none of your business.”
Ryker turned on his heel and walked away.
“You stick to your own business then,” said Hashknife.
“And you stick to your own,” retorted Ryker hotly.
Hashknife laughed softly and went back to Sleepy.
The doctor came again that night. Sleepy had not developed any fever, and the doctor was jubilant. In the morning he was stiff and sore, but cheerful. Horse-Collar Fields came fairly early in the morning and offered to stay with Sleepy as long as Hashknife wanted him to stay.