While he talked, Gallup had been examining the dead man’s clothes and his gun.
“This bird sure knew what he was doin’,” he muttered. “Ain’t a mark on him to identify him. Queer old gun he used. Well, we got men enough here. I guess I’ll swear you in and git done right now.”
“We’re shy one, Aaron,” said Hobe. “Where’s Johnny? Ought to have him, he’s so up on these things.”
“Him and Tony’s over to the Bud. They’ll be comin’ soon as the news gits round.”
“I got enough,” Aaron answered. “Johnny Dice ain’t law-abidin’ no more, anyhow.”
Without further delay he began swearing them to the truth. Before he had finished the jingle of spur chains below caught Scanlon’s ear. “There’s someone now.” He went to the stairs and looked down. “Say, Johnny, you’re just in time. Need another man up here.”
“Surest thing, old dear. What’s the limit?”
“No limit. It’s a dead man. Gallup’s here.”
“Do I know him?” demanded Johnny.
“No one’s ever clapped eyes on him ’cept Vin. But he don’t know nothin’, either.”