"While protesting that this is an outrage, I am ready to answer your questions," he said huskily.
"Who is this man? Did ye know him?" asked the sergeant, whose face remained woodenly impassive.
"Rancher Redmond, by his clothing," was the answer. "Yes; if necessary, I think I could swear to him." And the sergeant asked again: "When and where did ye last see him?"
"In the birch coulée, at dusk, three weeks past Tuesday. That would make it——" But the financier seemed unable to work out the simple sum, and concluded: "You can figure the date for yourself."
"What business had ye with him?" and the sergeant smiled dryly at the answer: "That does not concern you."
"Maybe no. If ye have good reasons for not telling I will not press ye, though ye may be called upon to speak plainly. Do ye know how he came into the river?"
"No," said Lane, a trifle too vehemently.
"Do ye know of any reason why he should have drowned himself?" And Lane turned upon the questioner savagely:
"I'll make you all suffer for your inference! Why should I know? I challenge the right of anyone but a coroner to detain me."
"I'll let ye see my authority at the station if I find it necessary to take ye there," said the sergeant grimly. "Noo will ye answer? Do ye know why this man ye had dealings with should wish to destroy himself?"