“Dead?” asked Chot in an awed voice.
“Maybe.”
“Let’s look.”
“Better not.”
“Why?”
“The coroner, or somebody like that, always has to be first to look at a dead body. That’s the law.”
It wasn’t, exactly, but it was near enough.
“But maybe some of ’em are there—hurt,” suggested Chot. “If they are we’d better—”
“I’m not going to get shot!” objected his chum. “They’ve got guns, it’s likely.”
“They can’t shoot if they’re hurt,” reasoned Chot. “Come on, let’s look.”