“I understand.”
If Nick had had any doubt of this man’s innocence it was all gone now, for Law was no actor; just a plain, honest farmer—bull-headed, quick-tempered, and unreasonable, perhaps, but no murderer, and he couldn’t have told his story of the afternoon in that straightforward way, if he had been guilty.
“Mr. Low,” said Nick, after a pause, “Judson is dead.”
“Dead!” repeated the farmer, in a tone that showed the greatest surprise. “How long since, Mr. Nicholas?”
“He died while you were at the door to his room.”
“You don’t mean it!”
“He was murdered.”
“Wha-a-at!”
“Thrown from his window to the sidewalk.”
“Good heavens! Then that was what those men were runnin’ for.”