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"Thompson," Racey said, but watching McFluke the while, "did Dale have any trouble here with anybody besides the stranger?" "Not as I know of," came the reply after a moment's hesitation. "He didn't have any fuss with anybody," spoke up Luke Tweezy. "I was talking to Thompson," Racey reminded the lawyer. "When I want to ask you any questions I'll let you know."

"McFluke has sloped," said he without preliminary. "What!" cried Judge Dolan. But it was characteristic of Racey Dawson that he did not say "What!" He asked "How?" "Because the jail was burned down," said Kansas; "you know we had to put him in yore warehouse, Judge, as the next strongest place, and they dug him out." "'Dug him out?" Thus Judge Dolan. "That's what they did."

It will shore be the worst kind of luck if I can't keep Peaches from hearing the one and seeing the other until after I'm ready. You leave it to yore uncle, Chuck. He knows." "He's a great man, my uncle," assented Chuck, and struck a derisive tongue in his cheek. "What did you find out from McFluke anything?" "Anything? Gimme a match and I'll tell you."

"They all took out after him all except McFluke, that is." Racey nodded. "I expect McFluke would want to stay with Dale," he said, gently, "just as you'd want to go to Farewell after the coroner. Yo're shore it is the coroner, Thompson?" "Say, how many times do you want me to tell you?" demanded the badgered Thompson. "Of course it's the coroner.

"Still I wouldn't know the name McFluke," maintained Mr. Pooley. "I'm sorry, Mr. Pooley," said Racey, rising to his feet. "I shore am." "Don't strain yoreself," advised Mr. Pooley, making a brave rustle among the papers on his desk. "I won't," Racey said, turning at the door to bestow a last! grin upon Mr. Pooley. "So long. Glad I called." Mr. Pooley laughed outright.

"We were here beside the door listenin' from the time McFluke said he was too comfortable to move out of here." Thus the marshal wearily. Mr. Pooley considered a moment. "Who snitched where Mac was?" he asked, finally. "Nobody," replied Racey, promptly. "Somebody must have. Who was it?" "Nobody, I tell you. McFluke had to go somewhere, didn't he? He couldn't hang around Farewell. Too dangerous.

I tell you that door was opened this mornin'! I hit my head on it! Ask 'em all! Ask anybody! Jack, lookit here " "I didn't see you hit yore head on the door," interrupted Jack Harpe. "Maybe you did, I dunno." Racey raised a quick head as Jack Harpe spoke. Quite plainly he saw Jack Harpe accompany his words with a slight lowering of his left eyelid. Racey glanced at McFluke.

Observing which Racey knew that it must have been an easy matter for McFluke to crawl through, for the saloon-keeper's shoulders, wide as they were, were not as broad as those of Kansas Casey by a good inch and a half. "That hole is four or five inches wider than necessary," ruminated Racey, preparing to follow the deputy. "I wonder why. Yep, I shore wonder why.

"Yo're yo're lyin'," sputtered Luke Tweezy. "Am I? We'll see. When playin' cards with old Dale didn't work they caught the old man at McFluke's one day and after he'd got in a fight with McFluke and McFluke downed him, they saw their chance to produce a forged release from Dale." "Who did the forging?" broke in the Judge. "I dunno for shore. This here was found in Tweezy's safe."

The latter's hard, close-coupled blue eyes narrowed at Racey's approach. Racey, as he draped himself against the bar, was careful to nudge Casey's foot with a surreptitious toe. "Jake," said Racey, "would I be interruptin' the proceedings too much if I made a motion for us to drink all round?" "Not a-tall," declared the sheriff, heartily. Racey turned to McFluke.