"I don't know," Sol said miserably.
"You better stay out of this," the Sheriff warned. "This is a local matter, young man. You better stay in the shop while we go up."
They filed past him and the crying Mrs. Brundage.
When they were out of sight, Sol pleaded with her.
"What happened? How did your husband die?"
"Please ..."
"You must tell me! Was it something to do with Armagon? Do you dream about the place, too?"
She was shocked at the question. "Of course!"
"And your husband? Did he have the same dream?"
Fresh tears resulted. "Can't you leave me alone?" She turned her back. "I got things to do. You can make yourself comfortable—" She indicated the barber chairs, and left through the back door.