“How do you do, Miss McGurn?” he said, amiably.
“How d’ye do? How’s Hugo––Hugo Ennis?” she asked, eagerly.
“He may perhaps pull through, though he’s still hanging on to a pretty thin chance. I suppose you know that you’re soon going to be called as a witness?”
“Me?” she exclaimed. “What for?”
“Well, that story about an accident looks rather fishy to me, you know. I have an idea that it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have the sheriff come over here and investigate things a little. We’re beginning to get too civilized on this line to stand for gun-play. I’ve talked over the matter with some of the people who went with you to Roaring River, and I gather that you are the only one who can enlighten us a little.”
“I––I don’t know anything!” she stammered.
“You’re probably too modest, Miss McGurn, or you may perhaps be trying to 283 shield some one. That shows your kind heart, of course, but it won’t quite do for the law. At any rate you will tell us what aroused your suspicions. It’s very important, you know, for the slightest clue may be of service. And then, of course, there is the matter of the letters.”
“What letters?” cried the girl, biting her lips.
“Oh, just some letters that passed through this office. Let me see, where did I put them? Always indispensable to secure all documents. Miss Nelson gave them to me.”
Very slowly he pulled the letters out of his pocket, while his keen eyes searched Sophy’s face, gravely. She was distinctly ill at ease, he observed.