I got Clint to wash the blood out of his trousers, then shove some horse shit over one knee. That way he could explain why he'd do something weird like wash his clothes.
Say 'Sorry Ma, fell into some cattle chuck, washed 'em myself though!'
Now if somebody saw him racing from the schoolroom, I guess they wouldn't get a good enough look to be sure it was Clint. The McGinley boys were his size, could easily be one of them.
Now stay here, Clint. I gotta loiter around the jailhouse. Maybe see what this downright talkative sky gifts me.
Neville Hunt about 2 years ago
Sneaky, Anna Cody, sneaky. Who are you protecting really?...and who are you setting up? Naughty, naughty!