W. C. Tuttle

“ Barnhardt went back to his office, glowing with the self satisfaction that comes to men who love to gossip. Le Moyne met Goode at the Oasis, and Goode was carrying just a little too much liquor. Goode happened to be extolling Hashknife and Sleepy to the bartender, who evidently didn’t care a bit about it. ”

“ I wonder where Goode found out so much about those two men?”
“I don’t know. He’s been out to the Double Bar 8 to see ’em, and when he came back he met Al Porter here. They had a few shots of hooch, and Goode told Al all about ’em. The more drinks he took, the more he told. After Al went away, Barnhardt came in, and Goode told it all over again. When Barnhardt went out, I was the victim. You’re lucky he went to sleep.”
“I suppose I am,” laughed Le Moyne. “It appears that the Double Bar 8 is well taken care of right now. Did any one find out who shot that tenderfoot kid the other night?” ”

“ I wish I wasn’t the sheriff.”
“Well, cheer up, Scotty; somebody will prob’ly kill yuh very soon, and then yore troubles will all be over.”
“I s’pose that’s true.”
The sheriff went back to his office, where he found Porter cleaning a Winchester. ”