The track was a moccasin print to him.
It was the coroner who said to Dan Treu in an undertone as they sat by the fire waiting for the daylight—
"Did you ever see a woman act like Doc? By Gosh! did you ever see anybody act like Doc? She's enjoyin' this—upon my soul she is! She makes me think of a half-starved hunting dog that's pulled somethin' down and has got a taste of blood."
The deputy nodded with an odd smile.
The Dago Duke said nothing. But he seemed vastly interested in watching Dr. Harpe. He observed her every movement, her every expression, with a purposeful look upon his face which was new to it.
They found the gun in the morning, caught in a giant sagebrush where it hung concealed until accidentally jarred loose by no less a person than Mr. Percy Parrott, who had arrived early to give his unsolicited aid to the deputy-sheriff.
The Colt's automatic was easily identified as Dubois's gun, and two shells were missing.
"A pretty rough piece of work," commented Dr. Harpe as she looked at the empty chambers.
"As raw as they make it," agreed the Dago Duke for once.
"Don't run away, Dago," said the sheriff, "I may want you."