We'll prove that you are not Bransford, and
you'll go to the Las Vegas pen for twenty years! Now, let's talk
business!"
Sanderson turned. There was a mirthless grin on his face. He spoke
loudly, calling the jailer.
When the latter appeared in the corridor beside Silverthorn, Sanderson
addressed him without looking at the other:
"You ain't on your job a heap, are you? There's a locoed coyote
barkin' at me through the door, there. Run him out, will you--he's
disturbin' me plenty."
He turned from the door, stretched himself on the cot, and with his
face to the wall listened while Silverthorn cursed.
CHAPTER XV
DALE PAYS A VISIT
Shortly after midnight Sanderson was sound asleep on the cot in the
cell when a strange, scraping noise awakened him. He lay still for a
long time, listening, until he discovered that the sound came from the
window. Then he sat up stealthily and looked around to see, framed in
the starlit gloom of the night, the face of Barney Owen, staring in
through the window at him.
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