H. begins hear."
"He's bound to have it somewhere," asseverated Collins. "It don't
stand to reason he was making his getaway without that paper. We
got to be more thorough, Del."
Hawkes, under the direction of his friend, ripped up linings and
tore away pockets from clothing. The saddle on the bronco and the
saddle-blankets were also torn to pieces in vain.
Finally Hawkes scratched his poll and looked down on the
wreckage. "I hate to admit it, Val, but the old fox has got us
beat; it ain't on his person."
"Not unless he's got it under his skin," agreed Collins, with a
grin.
"Maybe he ate it. Think we better operate and find out?"
An idea hit the sheriff. He walked up to Hardman and ordered him
to open his mouth.
The jaws set like a vise.
Collins poked his revolver against the closed mouth. "Swear for
us, old bird. Get a move on you."
The mouth opened, and Collins inserted two fingers. When he
withdrew them they brought a set of false teeth. Under the plate
was a tiny rubber bag that stuck to it. Inside the bag was a
paper. And on it was written four lines in Spanish. Those lines
told what he wanted to know.
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