“Just after his death Drake’s partner produced a bill of sale for the entire ranch and took possession of it. Everyone suspected him of the murder, but it couldn’t be proved. About three years later the man killed his wife and at the time of his conviction the question of Drake’s murder was brought up and he confessed. Isn’t it strange the way things happen?” Will’s question was general. “What on earth do you suppose sent Ed. Brook into the Jackson’s Hole country at that one time of all others?”
No one answered.
“I wonder if all new countries abound in such tragic mysteries?” The Surveyor looked up at me.
“What tragic mysteries have you encountered, Mrs. Brook, that makes you speak so feelingly?”
Just then the clock struck twelve and I got up.
“It’s too late for more mysteries, it’s time to go to bed—and we don’t want tragedies to keep us wide awake on Christmas night.”
“Oh, come on Esther, tell us your most thrilling experience,” they begged. “We won’t move a step until you do.”
“Marrying Owen,” I replied, looking over at my unsuspecting husband, “I’ve never had a chance to get my breath since.”
And amid a shout of laughter the Christmas party broke up.