"Peter."
"Only?"
The Breed hesitated. His furtive eyes shifted from one face to the other of his auditors. Then encountering the fixed stare of both men he glanced away towards the window. He seemed uncomfortable under the mute inquiry. Then he went on doubtfully.
"I guess thar's others. It's an old secret among the Breeds. An' I've heerd tell as some whites knows it."
A swift exchange of meaning glances passed between the two listeners.
"Who?"
"Can't say."
"Won't—you mean?"
"No, boss. Ef I knew it 'ud pay me well to tell. Guess I don't know. I've tried to find out."
"Now look you. Retief has always been supposed to have been drowned in the keg. Where's he been all the time?"