The sheriff was thoughtful. "I guess you'd better call up Carmody—he's the whole works till his verdict is rendered, and he ought to be notified at once."
A moment's talk with the doctor's office disclosed the fact that he was out in the country on a medical trip, and would not return till late. "Reckon we'll have to wait," said the sheriff.
The ranger's face fell. After a pause he asked, "When does that train get in?"
"About six; it's an hour late."
"And they'll be jailed?"
"Sure thing! No other way. Carmody told me to take charge of them and see that they were both on hand to-morrow."
Hanscom's fine eyes flamed with indignation. "It's an outrage. That girl is as innocent of Watson's killing as you are. I won't have her humiliated in this way."
"You seem terribly interested in this young lady," remarked Throop, with a grin.
Hanscom was in no mood to dodge. "I am—and I'm going to save her from coming here if I can." He started for the door. "I'll see Judge Brinkley and get her released. Carmody has no authority to hold her."
"I hope you succeed," said the sheriff, sympathetically; "but at present I'm under orders from the coroner. It's up to him. So you think you've got the girl who made them tracks?"