Yeager led the way inside, offered his guest the chair, and sat down on
the bed with his arms on the table which had been drawn close to it.

"In the first place, I'll announce myself. I don't hold with rustlers or
waddies. I'm a white man. That being understood, I want to know where
we're at."

"Meaning?"

"Miss Phyllis unloads a story on me about you shooting yourself up
accidental. Soon as I looked at you that looked fishy to me. You ain't
that kind of a durn fool. Would you mind handing me a dipper of water?
Thanks." Yeager tossed the water out of the window, and the dipper back
into the pail. "I noticed you handed me that water with your right hand.
Your gun is on your right side. Then how in Mexico, you being
right-handed, did you manage to shoot yourself _in the right arm below
the elbow?_"

Keller laughed dryly, and offered no information. "Quite a Sherlock
Holmes, ain't you?"

"Hell, no! I got eyes in my head, though. Moreover, that bullet went in
at right angles to your arm. How did you make out to do that?"

"Sleight of hand," suggested the other.

"No powder marks, either. And, lastly, it was, a rifle did it, not a
revolver."