The girl looked perplexed for a moment. But her conviction was plainly evident.
"No—he wouldn't have walked. Peter drank some."
"I see."
"Once I saved him from taking the wrong track at the point where the path forks. He'd been drinking then. Yes," with a quiet assurance, "I think he died in the keg."
Her companion seemed to have come to the end of his cross-examination. He suddenly rose from his seat. The chattering of the ducks in the distance caused him to turn his head. Then he turned again to the girl before him. The indolence had gone from his eyes. His face was set, and the firm pursing of his lips spoke of a determination arrived at. He gazed down at the recumbent figure upon the ground. There was something in his gaze which made the girl lower her eyes and look far out down the valley.
"This brother of yours—he was tall and thin?"
The girl nodded.
"Am I right in my recollection of him when I say that he was possessed of a dark, dark face, lantern jaws, thin—and high, prominent cheek-bones?"
"That's so."
She faced him inquiringly as she answered his eager questions.