"Not a sign of 'em," laughed John. "There were no dead policemen, and, what's more, there was no trace of any shooting."
The three men turned on the clerk, who felt that he must justify himself.
"There was shooting enough, sir; you mark my words. You'll hear of it to-day, sure."
"Lord" Bill walked away towards the window in disgust. The clerk annoyed him.
"No, boy, no. I'm thinking you are mistaken. I should have discovered some trace had there been any shooting. I don't deny that your story's true, but in the excitement of the moment I guess you got rattled—and saw things."
Old John laughed and turned away. At that instant Bill called them all over to the window. The bar window overlooked the market-place, and the front of Lablache's store was almost opposite to it.
Bill pointed towards the store as the three men gathered round. "Old man" Smith also ranged himself with the others.
"Look!" Bill smiled grimly.
A buckboard had just drawn up outside Lablache's emporium and two people were alighting. A crowd had gathered round the arrivals. There was no mistaking one of the figures. The doctor was the first to give expression to the thought that was in the mind of each of the interested spectators.
"Lablache!" he exclaimed in astonishment