“Not much of anything—except talk. The whole country is buzzing over this dismissal of the Chief Forester.”
“They’d better be doing something about that murder.”
“They are; they’re going up there in streams to see where the work was done. The coroner’s inquest was held yesterday.” He grinned. “‘Parties came to their death by persons unknown.’”
Lize scowled. “It’s a wonder they don’t charge it up to Ross Cavanagh or some other ranger.”
“That would be a little too raw, even for this country. They’re all feeling gay over this change in the forestry head; but see here, don’t you want to get out for a ride? I’ve got my new machine out here; it rides like silk.”
“I reckon a hearse is about my kind,” she replied, darkly. “If you could take me up to Cavanagh’s cabin, I’d go,” she added. “I want to see him.”
“I can take you part way,” he instantly declared. “But you’d have to ride a horse the last ten miles.”
“Couldn’t do it, Joe,” she sighed. “These last few days I’ve been about as boneless as an eel. Funny the way a fellow keeps going when he’s got something to do that has to be done. I’ll tell you what, if you want to take me and Lee up to Sulphur, I’ll go ye.”
“Sure thing. What day?”
“Not for a day or two. I’m not quite up to it just now; but by Saturday I’ll be saddle-wise again.”