Shayne asked softly, “Still planning to catch the night train west?”
She said, “I certainly am,” and her voice was strong and hard.
Shayne led her inside and again performed a perfunctory introduction. “Mrs. Mattson from Denver — whom some of you already know. There’s a vacant chair by the window, Mrs. Mattson. Now, that’s all, I believe, except the guest of honor.” He glanced at Sheriff Fleming.
Fleming went out and returned in a few minutes with Dr. Fairweather. Behind them, a nurse wheeled in Joe Meade in a rubber-tired reclining chair. His head was swathed in bandages. Sultry eyes, a heavy-bridged nose, and a sulky mouth were the only features that could be seen.
Christine leaped to her feet with a little cry when he was wheeled into the room. She bent over him, crying, “Are you all right, Joe? They refused to let me—” The efficient nurse drew the girl back gently. “The patient is extremely weak and must not become excited. Rest and quiet are all he needs for recovery.”
The doctor warned Shayne, “The young man’s condition is very favorable, but we must guard against a relapse. I can permit him to answer only a few vital questions.” He took a determined stand beside the patient.
Shayne frowned at Meade’s bandages. “Will he be able to hear me through those wrappings?”
Meade cut his eyes in Shayne’s direction without moving his head. “I can hear you, all right” His voice was thin, but carried a thread of hostility.
Shayne told the doctor, “I’ll do most of the talking. After I’ve had my say, there won’t be many questions.” He paused and let his gaze circle the crowded room, passing over Mark Raton and Carson, pausing to catch Phyllis’s encouraging eyes for a moment, on past Casey to Olivia Mattson, then to Christine in the opposite corner.
Christine met his eyes levelly, openly hostile, but Celia smiled at him. Jasper Windrow’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, but Cal Strenk favored him with a sly and knowing wink. Bryant had taken a chair beyond the old miner and was hunched forward with his chin cupped in his palms, his finely sculptured features expressing complete boredom.