"You mean about his being a spy? Well, Naab, the truth is that was his
job. I advised against sending a man down here for that sort of work.
It won't do. These Mormons will steal each other's cattle, and they've
got to get rid of them; so they won't have a man taking account of stock,
brands, and all that. If the Mormons would stand for it the rustlers
wouldn't. I'll take Hare out to the ranch and give him work, if he
wants. But he'd do best to leave Utah."
"Thank you, no," replied Hare, decidedly.
"He's going with me," said August Naab.
Holderness accepted this with an almost imperceptible nod, and he swept
Hare with eyes that searched and probed for latent possibilities. It was
the keen intelligence of a man who knew what development meant on the
desert; not in any sense an interest in the young man at present. Then
he turned his back.
Hare, feeling that Holderness wished to talk with Naab, walked to the
counter, and began assorting his purchases, but he could not help hearing
what was said.
"Lungs bad?" queried Holderness.
"One of them," replied Naab.
"He's all in. Better send him out of the country.
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