Buck, meantime, was speaking to Estella Shumway.
“This is a terrible thing, Stella,” he said, his voice soft and pleading. “Poor Miguel and my boys has had some trouble, but it wa’n’t nothing to mention. Gosh, this is pretty bad! And then this feller Murphy comin’ along.
“Now look-a-here, Stella! You got to let me handle things for you a spell. I’ll get rid o’ this cuss Murphy in a hurry. Don’t let the money part of it bother you a mite. I’ll send in to town to-day and git the preacher, and we’ll attend to a real funeral for poor Miguel, savvy? There ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do for you, li’l girl, and you know it.”
“Oh!” The girl turned to him desperately. “Are you sure—are you sure about what you saw? It isn’t possible, I tell you!”
Her vehemence shook Buck despite himself.
“Why, Stella! You ain’t friends with this gunman Robinson? He’s a stranger up here—sure, you don’t know him?”
The girl shivered slightly and turned away. She was silent for a moment; then:
“No,” she said. “I never saw Robinson before to-day, Mr. Buck—only he seemed such a nice man! And he knew some friends of ours——”
A flash of relief crossed the features of Buck.
“Well, looks is deceivin’,” he averred stoutly. “Now, Stella, you leave things to me. Chuck will be in pretty quick with the body, and I’ll take care of it. Poor Miguel! This here news will be a mighty big shock to everybody who knowed him. Want me to send for Jake Harper? Him and me ain’t overly friendly, but he’s mighty true to you, I guess. We’ll overlook our differences and ’tend to your affairs.”