But he could blab to the riders. Van Sickle's lookin' fer you.
An' to-day when I was alone with Joel he told me some more queer things about
you. I shut him up quick. But I ain't guaranteein' I can keep him shut up."
"I'll bet you I shut him up," declared Slone. "What more did the fool say?"
"Slone, hev you been round these hyar parts---down among the monuments--fer
any considerable time?" queried Brackton.
"Yes, I have--several weeks out there, an' about ten days or so around the
Ford."
"Where was you the night of the flood?"
The shrewd scrutiny of the old man, the suspicion, angered Slone.
"If it's any of your mix, I was out on the slope among the rocks. I heard that
flood comin' down long before it got here," replied Slone, deliberately.
Brackton averted his gaze, and abruptly rose as if the occasion was ended.
"Wal, take my hunch an' leave!" he said, turning away.
"Brackton, if you mean well, I'm much obliged," returned Slone, slowly,
ponderingly. "But I'll not take the hunch."
"Suit yourself," added Brackton, coldly, and he went away.
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