The Sheriff's Son
to Dingwell. He leaned forward and asked another question in a low voice. "Never happened to meet the son of John Beaudry, did you?"
Dingwell looked at him steadily out of narrowed eyes. "I don't get you, Hal. What has he got to do with it?"
"Thought maybe you could tell me that. He's in the park now."
"In the park?"
"Yes—and Jess Tighe knows it."
"What's he doing here?"
But even as he asked the other man, Dingwell guessed the answer. Not an hour before he had caught a glimpse of a white, strained face at the window. He knew now whose face it was.
"He's spying on us and sleuthing for evidence to send us to the pen. Think he'd be a good risk for an insurance company?"
Dave thought fast. "I don't reckon you 're right. I put the kid through law school. My friends have likely sent him up here to look for me."
Rutherford scoffed. "Nothing to that. How could they know you are here? We did n't advertise it."
"No-o, but—" Dingwell surrendered the
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