“Sure? Of course I am. Why?”
“And how long before that, Mr. Overton?” asked Saunders; “for that is a very important point.”
“About a half-hour, I should say—maybe a little more,” he answered, staring at them. “Now, what important thing does that prove?”
One of the men gave a cheer; three or four had come up to the door when they saw Overton, and they took the yell up with a will. Mrs. Huzzard started to run from the tent, but grew so nervous that she had to wait until Miss Slocum came to her aid.
“What in the world does it mean?” she gasped.
Saunders turned around with an honestly pleased look.
“It means that Mr. Overton here has brought word that clears Miss Rivers of being at the cabin when the murder was done—that’s what it means; and we are all too glad over it to keep quiet. But why in the world didn’t you tell us that, miss?”
But she did not say a word. All about Dan were exclamations and disjointed sentences, from which he could gain little actual knowledge, and he turned to Lyster, impatiently:
“Can’t you tell me—can’t some of you tell me, what I have cleared up for her? When was this killing supposed to be done?”
“At or a little before moonrise,” said Max, his face radiant once more. “’Tana—don’t you know what he has done for you? taken away all of that horribly 302 mistaken suspicion you let rest on you. Where was she, Dan?”