Brick shook his head.
“No, I guess the kid is a goner, Mrs. Wesson. I don’t sabe it at all. He was a dinger of a little feller. Kinda up and comin’ all the time.”
They considered the mystery silently for a while. Then:
“Well, I’ll be goin’,” said Brick. “There’s a lot of work to bein’ a sheriff.”
“Like packin’ schoolbooks and all that.”
“Uh-huh,” grinned Brick. “So-long, Mrs. Wesson.”
“G’-by, Brick.”
Brick went to the Dollar Down, but did not find Harp and Silent. A poker game was in progress and Leach was in the game. Santel was one of the spectators. He nodded to Brick pleasantly, but not so Leach. He scowled at Brick and devoted the rest of his attention to his cards.
Brick went back to his office and found Silent and Harp, lying on the cots, reading some year-old magazines. Neither of them paid any attention to Brick, who rolled a cigaret and sat down on top of his desk.
“Miss Miller is a danged nice girl,” offered Brick.