“Will you do me a favor?” asked Hashknife.
“Anything in the world, Hartley.”
“Come out and see Moses Conley with me.”
“Moses Conley? Why, well, that’s quite—I’ll go.”
They walked from the court room and met the doctor on the stairs.
“My goodness!” he blurted. “More shooting! I jump around like a grasshopper. What was it? Nobody talks—they yell. Ten men yelling at me at the same time. I can’t hardly keep Stevens in bed. Fields came up and danced on the foot of the bed. Crazy men.”
“You can’t do any good up there, Doc,” said Hashknife.
“Only in your capacity as coroner.”
They went on down to the street. Jimmy was running up from the jail, and Dawn met him. Pete stood on the sidewalk, blinking around. He didn’t know what to do.
Hashknife took Moran by the arm and led him down to where Dawn and Jimmy were looking at each other. Jimmy looked at his father and grinned foolishly.