"I thought so." Hunt Rennie nodded. "Education is a polisher, but I don't think three or four years' schooling would have made a Texas range rider ask for sherry over whisky--except to experiment with an exotic beverage. There were other things, too, which did not fit with the Kirby background once Anson turned up. Just who are you?"
Drew shrugged. "That doesn't matter now--as the lieutenant and Captain Bayliss have pointed out--if my only proof is in Kentucky and out of reach."
"I suppose you have heard of telegraphs?" Rennie's sarcasm was cold. "Communication with Kentucky is not so impossible as you appear to think. You give me a name and address--or names and addresses--and I'll do the rest. All you have to do is substantiate background and your army service, proving no possible contact with Kitchell. Then the captain will be forced to admit a mistake."
Give Hunt Rennie the name of Cousin Meredith Barrett, of Aunt Marianna's husband, Major Forbes--the addresses of Red Springs or Oak Hill? Drew could not while there was a chance that Anse might find the papers or make Johnny Shannon admit taking them. The Kentuckian could _not_ tell Hunt Rennie who he was here and now.
"I want to talk to Anse," he said out of his own thoughts. "I've got to talk to Anse!"
"He's gone." Rennie's two words did not make sense at first. When they did, Drew jumped up and caught at the bars.
"Cleared out--got clean away." Again Spath supplied the information. "Or so they tell us. He went back to the Stronghold after he broke through our lines. But when a patrol rode down to get him, he was gone."
"Why? Because he's in this, too!" Spath retorted. "Probably rode straight to Kitchell's hideout. Now, Mr. Rennie, time's up. The captain authorized this visit because he thought you might just get something out of the prisoner. Well, you did: an admission he's been passing under a false name. We know _what_ he is--a renegade horse thief."
Drew was no longer completely aware of either man. But, as Rennie turned away, he broke through the mist of confusion which seemed to be enclosing him more tightly than the walls of the cell.
Hunt Rennie's head swung around. "What about Johnny?" he demanded.
"He took my papers--out of my belt!" This was probably the worst thing he could do, to accuse Johnny Shannon without proof.