"Listen, Mescal. Be calm. I'm safe. The rustlers are prisoners. One
of them released you from Holderness. Tell me which one?"
"I don't know," replied Mescal. "I've tried to think. I didn't see his
face; I can't remember his voice."
"Think! Think! He'll be hanged if you don't recall something to identify
him. He deserves a chance. Holderness's crowd are thieves, murderers.
But two were not all bad. That showed the night you were at Silver Cup.
I saved Nebraska--"
"Were you at Silver Cup? Jack!"
"Hush! don't interrupt me. We must save this man who saved you. Think!
Mescal! Think!"
"Oh! I can't. What--how shall I remember?"
"Something about him. Think of his coat, his sleeve. You must remember
something. Did you see his hands?"
"Yes, I did--when he was loosing the cords," said Mescal, eagerly.
"Long, strong fingers. I felt them too. He has a sharp rough wart on
one hand, I don't know which. He wears a leather wristband."
"That's enough!" Hare bounded out upon the garden walk and raced back to
the crowded square. The uneasy circle stirred and opened for him to
enter.
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