“Did you notice any excitement around the hotel as you drove away?”
“Excitement? Reckon not. A feller I know spoke to me, but I was too durn mad to answer him decent.”
“But didn’t you notice anything else?”
Low thought a moment.
“Now I think of it,” he said, “I do remember seein’ two or three men runnin’ down the street at the side of the hotel, but I was so durn mad that I didn’t turn my head. The hull town mought ha’ been on fire fer all I cared. I was thinkin’ of how I’d been cheated.”
“I understand.”
If Nick had had any doubt of this man’s innocence it was all gone now.
Low was no actor; just a plain, honest farmer—bullheaded, quick-tempered and unreasonable, perhaps, but no murderer.
He couldn’t have told his story of the afternoon in that straightforward way, if he had been guilty.