To Wasson himself, whom he met on horseback on the road into the ranch,
he gave the same explanation he had given to the store-keeper's wife.
Wasson was a tall man in chaps and a Stetson, and he was courteously
interested.

"Bill and Jake are still here," he said. "They're probably in for dinner
now, and I'll see you get a chance to talk to them. I took them over
with the ranch. Property, you say? Well, I hope it's better land than he
had here."

He turned his horse and rode beside the car to the house.

"Comes a little late to do Henry Livingstone much good," he said. "He's
been lying in the Dry River graveyard for about ten years. Not much
mourned either. He was about as close-mouthed and uncompanionable as
they make them."

The description Wasson had applied to Henry Livingstone, Bassett himself
applied to the two ranch hands later on, during their interview. It
could hardly have been called an interview at all, indeed, and after a
time Bassett realized that behind their taciturnity was suspicion. They
were watching him, undoubtedly; he rather thought, when he looked away,
that once or twice they exchanged glances. He was certain, too, that
Wasson himself was puzzled.

"Speak up, Jake," he said once, irritably. "This gentleman has come a
long way. It's a matter of some property."