“Didja get the bullet?” asked Hashknife.
“It went all the way through,” said Roaring. He took the bullet from his pocket and gave it to Hashknife. “We found it on the floor in there.”
The piece of lead was slightly battered, but not too much so to prove the caliber.
“Forty-five,” said Hashknife.
Roaring nodded and put the bullet back in his pocket.
“We’re goin’ back, Dawn,” he said. “Is there anythin’ you need out here? No, don’t bother about it now. I’ll send Wind River Jim out with the doctor’s stuff, and he can find out what you need.”
“That’s mighty nice of you,” said Dawn.
“Pshaw!” Roaring cuffed his hat over one ear. “I wish I knowed what to do. Tomorrow is Sunday and the next day court starts. I dunno what cases are ahead of Pete’s. Your dad never hired no lawyer for Pete, did he? Thought he didn’t. I’ll have a talk with the judge. He’ll know what to do. Well, so long.”
Hashknife held out his hand to Dawn; she shook hands with him.
For a long while after the men had left the ranch Dawn wondered why Hashknife had asked all those questions. Why would an absolute stranger quiz her like that, she wondered? What was behind those level gray eyes, and that smile that seemed to drive her sorrows away for a moment? She was so sleepy and weary that she could hardly remember just what he looked like; but she remembered his eyes. And he seemed just an ordinary cowboy; the other man seemed to be one continuous grin and blue eyes.