Читать книгу Buffalo Bill's Bold Play; Or, The Tiger of the Hills онлайн

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“Did you see what sort of men they were, as to size?” the scout asked. “You might have done that when they were getting your weapons.”

“I was too busy playin’ dead jest then to notice clost,” Brown admitted. “But I did see that one was tall and t’other seemed medium size. It was the small one that was wounded.”

“Did you notice their voices?”

“Not in p’tickler.”

“You were at Juniper Joe’s wedding?”

“Well, I reckon.”

“Then you probably saw the man Juniper Joe shot at?”

“I did.”

“Joe claimed the man was Tim Benson, the road agent.”

“I ain’t fergittin’ that, neither.”

“Try to recall if one of the road agents resembled that man in any way.”

Brown pondered over this.

“Well, the littlest one might have been him,” he said; “I should say he was about that size.”

“Some one on the inside must have informed the agents that you and Austin were going over the mountains with the treasure bags,” said the scout. “You couldn’t give a guess as to who that could be?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about that,” Brown confessed. “No, I can’t say who it could have been. My best guess is, that if that little man was Benson he hung round somewhere and overheard the talk when the thing was planned.”

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