"You seem to be in a great hurry," the artist repeated, evidently enjoying the forbidding expression upon Jasper's face.
"Well, what of it?" was the curt reply. "It's a free country, isn't it?"
"That all depends," and Bramshaw laid down his brush in a thoughtful manner. "It might be free to one and not to another. You and I can do about as we please to-day, and no one will try to interfere with us. But it isn't the same with the one who put that poor old man out of business last night. He isn't free in the sense we are."
"So you've heard about it, have you?" Jasper questioned.
"Oh, yes. The whole country is wild with the news. I have been talking to a number of people and they are greatly worked up over the cowardly deed. Poor old David! He certainly was an innocent cuss."
"When did you first hear about it?" Jasper enquired.
"Not until late this morning. I am a sound sleeper."
"You surely must be. I don't see how any man could sleep with all the noise the men made passing along the road last night. Were you up late, eh?"
"What do you mean?" and an angry light leaped into Bramshaw's eyes. "I wish you to know that I went to sleep with the birds last night."
"I am glad to hear of it. You didn't always keep such good hours, especially one night when I caught you prowling about my place. Perhaps a hint to the wise was sufficient, and you have changed your manner of living."