"And that—that other—man. Who was he, and what happened to him?"
"I reckon he got tangled in th' wire, an' got his rope mixed up with it. An' somehow we got to shootin'. When th' excitement stopped he was there, an' I was where you found me."
"Who was he?" she demanded.
"He was a Triangle puncher, Ma'am; Lang was his name."
"He was one of the men whom I ordered to stay off our range—we couldn't keep the wire on those posts, and I suspected them strongly. Are you sure he was only tangled in the wire?"
"Well, I wouldn't just say nothin' about that. Mebby he was tryin' to help th' cow that was mired, an' got afoul of th' wire. But that don't make no difference, anyhow, now. Have you got any wire at th' ranch?"
"I think so," she answered.
"We'll put it up some day soon, so it'll take some time, an' more trouble, to get it loose."
She nodded and took a paper out of her waist. "Here are the figures for the year we took possession."