ep up a tree is a new one," tittered Hank. "Wish
you'd give me a swaller uh that brand. Must have a kick like a brindle
mule."

"More likely 'White Mule.'" Casey cocked a knowing eye at Hank. "You're
too late, young feller. I chewed the cork day before yesterday," he
declared.

While he fished another plate out of the pan, Casey observed that Paw
looked at Joe inquiringly, and that Joe moved his head sidewise a
careful inch, and back again.

"Moonshine, huh?" Paw hazarded hopefully. "Yuh peddlin' it, er makin'
it?"

Casey grinned secretively. "A man can't be pinched without the goods,"
he observed shrewdly. "I was raised in a country where they took fools
out an' brained 'em with an axe. You fellers ain't been none too
friendly, recollect. When's your boss expected home, did yuh say? I'd
kinda like to meet 'im."

"He'll kinda like to meet you," Joe returned darkly. "Your actions has
been plumb suspicious.

"Nothin' suspicious about MY actions," Casey stated truculently,
throwing discretion behind him. "The suspiciousness lays up here
somewheres on this butte. If yuh want to know what brung me up here,
Casey Ryan's the man that can tell yuh to your faces. I come up here
to find out who's been gittin' busy with a high-power on my camp down
below. Ain't it natural a man'd want to know who'd shot his two
burros--an' 'is pardner?" Casey had impulsively decided to throw in
Barney for good measure. "Casey Ryan ain't the man to set under a bush
an' be shot at like a rabbit. You can ask anybody if Casey ever backed
up fer man er beast. I come up here huntin'. Shore I did. It wasn't
sheep I was after--that there's my mistake. It was goats."

"Guess I got yourn," Hank leered "when stuck my gun in your back hair."

"If any one's 'been usin' a high-power it wasn't on this butte," Joe
growled. "None uh this bunch done any shootin'. Pap an' Hank, they
was up here huntin' burros an I caught yuh up a tree spyin'. We got a
little band uh antelope up here we're pertectin'. Our boss got himself
made a deppity fer just such cases as yourn appears t' be--pervidin'
your case ain't worse.

"Now you say your pardner was shot down below in your camp. That shore
looks bad fer you, old-timer. The boss'll shore have t' look into it
when he gits here. Lucky we made up our minds t' hold yuh--a murderer,
like as not." He filled his pipe with deliberation, while Casey, his
jaw sagging, stared from one to the other.