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Updated: April 30, 2025
His bonds were cut, not slipped. How could he nave gotten away without help? "Never mind," said Raften. "That three-fingered hand is aisy to follow. Caleb, ain't that Bill Hennard?" "I reckon." The men had a long talk. Caleb told of the loss of his revolver he was still living in the house with the Pogues then and of its recovery.
Broad-shouldered, beetle-browed, brutal and lazy was Bill Hennard, son of a prosperous settler. He had inherited a fine farm, but he was as lazy as he was strong, and had soon run through his property and followed the usual course from laziness to crime. Bill had seen the inside of more than one jail.
Hennard had left Downey's Dump the evening before, and avoiding the roads, had struck through the woods, to visit his partner, with important matters to arrange very important for Hennard. He was much fuddled when he left Downey's, the night was cloudy, and consequently he had wandered round and round till he was completely lost.
They both remembered that Hennard was close by at the time of the quarrel over the Horse-trade. There was much that explained itself and much of mystery that remained. But one thing was clear.
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