“Nona Parke. The baby’s name is Betty,” she supplied promptly.
“Well, then, Miss Parke,” Rock said a little stiffly, “I can assure you that if I do draw wages from you I’ll try to earn them without making a bid either for your gratitude or your affection.”
Nona Parke’s gray eyes rested on his for a second with cool appraisement.
“You talk like a man with some sense. If you can handle horses and cattle the way you handle the English language, you ought to be useful.”
“You’re getting too personal,” Rock said rudely. “Tell me about this shooting. That’s what I want to know before I decide whether I want to make myself the same kind of a target. I have ambitions to live and do well in the world, myself.”
“Now you’re getting offended,” she reproached. “And I’m only trying to be frank and have things understood. You can’t imagine what a nuisance men can be sometimes. Doc worked for me ever since dad died. He was a good man. But he persisted in wanting to love me. I let him go once and then took him on again. He promised to behave himself. But he wouldn’t. He was jealous. He couldn’t bear other men coming here to see me. He stirred up trouble for himself with Elmer Duffy, the boss of the Seventy Seven outfit. I am fairly sure that Elmer shot Doc yesterday afternoon.”
She said this reluctantly, but with an earnestness that convinced Rock she really believed it. To him it seemed rather simple. He had seen men quarrel over women before.
“Elmer, I suppose, is a victim, too,” Rock commented. “Was he inclined to be jealous of a good-looking fellow like Doc Martin being in your company all the time?”
“Yes; that’s about it.” She sighed. “It sounds horrid, but it’s true. I’m quite sure Duffy was a little afraid of Doc. Doc had a quick temper, and he was supposed to be rather deadly. I don’t know how he got that reputation, because I never knew of him having trouble with anybody in this country.”
“And you think they met and shot it out around the bend?” Rock queried.