He examined every section
of the wire, and kept watchful eyes on the grasses of the swale, in
an effort to discover if anyone had passed through them; but he could
discover no trace of anything to justify his fears.
He tilted his hat brim to shade his face and looked for his chickens.
They were hanging almost beyond sight in the sky.
"Gee!" he said. "If I only had your sharp eyes and convenient location
now, I wouldn't need be troubling so."
He reached his room and cautiously scanned the entrance before he
stepped in. Then he pushed the bushes apart with his right arm and
entered, his left hand on the butt of his favorite revolver. Instantly
he knew that someone had been there. He stepped to the center of the
room, closely scanning each wall and the floor. He could find no trace
of a clue to confirm his belief, yet so intimate was he with the spirit
of the place that he knew.
How he knew he could not have told, yet he did know that someone had
entered his room, sat on his benches, and walked over his floor. He was
surest around the case.
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