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The sky pilot laughed.

“I don’t have to be a mind reader to settle that point, Mr. Hickok,” he answered. “Do you recall a brief conversation that passed between the clerk at the Delmonico Hotel and Lige Benner when we came out of the dining room, right after supper? The clerk called out to Benner that a man had brought a package wrapped in newspaper, and that the package had been put in Benner’s saddlebags. I shouldn’t wonder if the clerk had made a mistake in the bags. Instead of putting the package into Benner’s, Wild Bill, he put it into yours.”

“Pard Jordan,” chirped Nomad, “yore head is some level, an’ no mistake. Ye’ve called the turn. Pard Hickok has got sheriff’s property as was intended fer Benner.”

“Right-o!” declared Wild Bill, with a chuckle. “I’ve got some of Benner’s hardware, all right. The sheriff must be a friend of his, eh, Jordan?”

“That’s the pity of it, in this section,” the sky pilot answered. “The law winks at the lawlessness of the cattle barons, and that’s what makes the situation so hard for Perry. There is no doubt but that the sheriff sent those manacles to the hotel for Benner.”