The
rest of the boys were already on their way to the Oro Rancho across the
valley. Williams saw two puckered scars, each above the elbow on
Saunders's bared arms.
"That was dam' good shootin'," said the foreman, indicating the other's
scarred arms.
"Fair," said Saunders gruffly.
"Takes a gun-artist to put a man out of business that way and not finish
him," said Williams, smiling.
"Cholo mix-up," said Saunders.
"And shootin' from the ground, at that," continued Williams. "And at a
fella on a horse. Easy to see that, for the both holes are slantin' up.
The shootin' was done from below."
Saunders flushed. He was about to speak when Williams interrupted him.
"Makes me think of some of Overland Red's--that is, old Red Jack
Summers's fancy work. I don' know why," he drawled, and turning he left
the bunk-house.
Collie, returning from a visit to the Oro Rancho that evening, was met
by Williams. The latter was on foot.
"Drop into my shack after dark," said the foreman. Then he stepped back
into the bushes as the other men rode up.
The foreman's interview with Collie that evening was brief. It left a
lot to the imagination. "You said too much about Overland Red the other
night, when you was talkin' to Silent Saunders," said Williams.
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