“Well, I dunno,” he said sadly. “I’m in no shape to work out puzzles. I git kinda giddy in the head.”
The conversation lapsed. Sunshine tried to smoke a cigaret, but threw it away in disgust. Finally the sheriff came back to the office and sat down to smoke his pipe. He was not bubbling over with conversation either, confining himself to cursing a pipe that is always stopped up.
Then came Doctor Owen, carefully removing his hat, mopping his brow and adjusting his glasses.
“Old Ed Barber died at six thirty-two this morning,” he stated.
The sheriff’s pipe rattled on the desk top.
“The —— he did!”
“Yes. I suppose we shall have to hold an inquest.”
“H-m-m. Yeah, I reckon we will. By grab! Poor old Ed’s dead, eh?”
The sheriff picked up the pipe and polished the bowl with the palm of his right hand.
“Old Ed was murdered,” he declared slowly. “Mebbe everythin’ is fair in war, I dunno. This is goin’ to stir things up badly. I swore to uphold the law, and I told ’em at the meetin’ that I’d do it, but by ——, I’m huntin’ for the men that shot old Ed. The law says that the sheep have the same right as cattle, but in a case like this, I reckon I’ll make a few laws of my own.”