“I didn’t say that!”
“You meant it. Did Mallette carry a gun?”
“I’ve never seen him with one. He had none on him when we found him. Conley murdered him.”
Roaring Rigby took a deep breath, rather a jerky one.
“Murder? Yeah, I reckon that’s right,” softly.
“The damn half-breed!” exclaimed English Ed under his breath.
“Blood don’t make no difference,” said Roaring quickly. “The law don’t draw no color line, English.”
“The law be damned! Mallette was murdered. Mallette was a gambler—one of my men. Judge Beal would turn Conley loose. He’d never hang a man for killing a gambler.”
“Old Judge Beal is a square-shooter, English. Nobody can say he ain’t honest. But he ain’t hangin’ nobody unless they need it.”
“Well, he better keep his nose out of my business.”