der a score of indictments breakfasts with a sheriff, then
"I see you got a game hand, Zang," said Agnew with forced comradery. "Something recent?"
"Oh, just what you might call a accident," was Zang's careless answer. "But the fever 's got in it some an'"
"I 'll just run round and fetch Doc Bowers over to give a look at it," the sheriff was quick to interpose. "You folks just make yourself comfortable; I won't be gone ten minutes."
"No call for you to take that trouble, Red," Zang ventured hesitantly; "I could amble over to the doc's an' then—come back."
"Not with that crowd outside, Zang. Reckon the town 's pretty fired up, and I would n't want you to get into a jam with some cow-punch, more especial since you'd have to use your left hand."
Sheriff Agnew cast a covert glance toward Hilma, then let his eyes return to Zang with a significant lifting of the brows. Plainly he felt the presence of the girl a bar to plain speaking.
"I 'll just mosey outside in the yard an' see how my little hoss has stood up under a
