He had mysteriously acquired a shotgun from his buckboard, and he cocked both hammers with the word. “Not till we talk a little. According to your tell, the killing was done in Sierra County. That’s my county, and we figure we are plenty competent to skin our own skunks. Also, we want one good long look before we leap. You three are the only men who can tell us anything, and we want to know what you know, so we’ll not lose time or make mistakes. We can’t afford to shoot so as to hit if it’s a deer and miss if it’s a mule. You fellers are excited. What you need is a head. I’ll be head.
“You just calm down a little. I’ll be getting a posse together to go back and look into this. You can be fixing to give us some idea what’s happened. After that, these two boys can go with you. They’ve seen this stranger and they’ll know him on a fresh horse. All you three know about his looks is a blue horse. I’m going up where Adam was killed. Where was it? Don’t be nervous about this gun. I never shot a man accidentally in my life. Where was Adam killed?”
“In Redgate. Near the upper end. We was looking—”
“That’s enough. You wait till I send for some friends of mine.” Pete raised his voice. “Girls! Ride over here! Now you folks keep still till the girls get away. Toad Hales, is it? I’ve seen you before, Mr. Hales.... Edith, you go to the mill and tell Jerome I want him. Lyn, you go to Chuck Barefoot’s and tell him to get Jim-Ike-Jones and come here and be quick about it. Then you girls go home.”
“What is it, Uncle Pete? Adam?” said Lyn, with a quivering lip.
“Yes, dear. Go on, now.”
“Dead?”
“Murdered!”
“Adam!”