“I only took ’em to show that I could,” I explained. “I didn’t want ’em. They would have got more anyway. I think I’ll go down and show myself to ’em. I won’t be long.”
The Border Palace was noisy and busy. None of Big ’Nacio’s friends paid any attention to me. Bardell came across the room to tell me:
“I’m glad you backed the boys down. Saved me a lot of trouble, maybe.”
I nodded and went out, around to the livery stable, where I found the night man hugging a little iron stove in the office.
“Got anybody who can ride to Filmer with a message tonight?”
“Maybe I can find somebody,” he said without enthusiasm.
“Give him a good horse and send him up to the hotel as soon as you can,” I requested.
I sat on the edge of the Canyon House porch until a long-legged lad of eighteen or so arrived on a pinto pony and asked for the deputy sheriff. I left the shadow I had been sitting in, and went down into the street, where I could talk to the boy without having an audience.
“Th’ old man said yuh wanted to send somethin’ to Filmer.”
“Can you head out of here toward Filmer, and then cross over to the Circle H.A.R. ?”
“Yes, suh, I c’n do that.”
“Well, that’s what I want. When you get there, tell Peery that Big ’Nacio and his men are in town, and might be riding that way before morning. And don’t let the information get out to anybody else.”
“I’ll do jus’ that, suh.”