“Looks like some one had been sweeping this place with a broom,” he remarked. “There ain’t much of anything shows.”
A pimply-faced young man spoke up.
“There was some one sweeping the ground this morning,” he said. “About five o’clock this morning I seen a girl dragging the branch of a tree after her, and sweeping along the road below here.”
“Did you know her?” asked the detective.
“No—I never seen her before.”
“Would you know her if you saw her again?”
“Sure I’d know her! She was a pippin. I’d know her horse, too.”
CHAPTER XXXV
Eva was still breathing faintly as the sun dropped behind the western hills. Shannon had not left the house all day. She felt that Custer needed her, that they all needed her, however little she could do to mitigate their grief. There was at least a sense of sharing their burden, and her fine sensibilities told her that this service of love was quite as essential as the more practical help that she would have been glad to offer had it been within her power.