"Is there any proof that Jake Miller wasn't dead long before he was strung up to that rafter?"
"What's that?" gasped Alf, once more coming to a sudden stop.
"It's a matter I can't discuss with anybody at present," said Anderson, curtly.
"Have—have you deduced something important, Anderson?" implored Alf, eagerly. "Is there evidence of foul play?"
"That's my business," said Anderson. "Come on. Don't stand there with your mouth open like that. He's still over at Hawkins's place, is he? I been workin' on the quiet all by myself since early this morning, an' I don't know just what's been happening around here for the last couple of hours."
"He was there the last I heard of him," said Alf.
"Well, you've given a purty good account of yourself, Alf, an' unless something turns up to change my present opinion, you are free to come an' go as you please."
"See here, you blamed old hayseed, what do you mean by actin' as if I had anything to do with Jake Mil—"
"You don't know what you're doing when you're drunk, Alf Reesling."
"But I ain't been drunk for twenty-five years, you blamed old—"