"Mebby he ain't so wise as he thinks," McKee insisted in that queer, lofty manner. "He put a man there all right, all right, but everybody ain't been asleep." Hepburn started to say something to Webb but was arrested by this. "What you got in your head, Sam?" he asked, with more intent than he had used in questioning McKee in months. Sam felt himself assuming a sudden importance at this; his manner of mystery and confidence had caught their interest and it was the first time he had so succeeded for long, the first time he had really been an insider in the game they played. It was gratifying to know facts which they did not know; he cherished this superiority, so he said: "Never you mind what's in Sam's head. You've been figurin' I'm a helpless sort of waddie for a long time but I guess you'll think different when you find out some things I know!" Hepburn urged again but McKee was no more responsive so the older man put McKee's secretiveness down as pique, concealing nothing of value, and went on with the talk. Later in the evening Webb said: "Sure you didn't leave anything by the tank that'd give us away?" "Think I'm simple minded?" Hepburn countered. "It's a damn good thing not to be. That's th' first place they'll ride when th' round-up starts an' as soon as Beck hears the Tank's gone he'll go over that place himself with a fine tooth comb. If he could hang that on us it'd be all he'd need." "He can go over it with a microscope but he'll find nothin'!" "You sure he will?" McKee asked, rather breathlessly, his eyes lighted with a peculiar glow. "Will what?" "Go there to look it over?" Hepburn snorted. "That's one thing you can be sure about Beck: he watches details an' don't let nothin' get away from him. He's always pryin' into things himself; he ain't satisfied to get his information second hand. A thing like this, which has meant a lot to them ... why, he'll investigate it until he's found somethin' or hell freezes!" McKee sat back, staring at the floor, his hands limp in his lap. Still that strange light showed in his eyes and occasionally his lips moved as though he rehearsed a declaration to himself.... And Hilton, stretched on his bed, watched McKee. After a time Sam roused and rolled a cigarette with fingers that were not just steady and sat smoking as he planned, already triumphing in anticipation. His eyes changed, and the lines of his face were remoulded ... and Hilton watched. Late that evening McKee went out into the dooryard to be alone with the memory of the one stroke he had made and to continue his plans for the master blow he was to make. But he was not alone. Hilton followed and spoke quietly over his shoulder, saying: "Yes, Sam, the chances are that he'll go to the tank alone." Whereupon the other started and whispered savagely: "How'd you know I was thinkin' _that?_"