‘Oh, yes!’ Rex tried to laugh. ‘We—Miss Lane and—we heard a chicken crowing, and she made up a little poem about eggs for breakfast; so we went to find the egg, you see. Yes, I fainted. Foolish thing to do, wasn’t it?’
‘Mebby not. But neither of you saw the gun, eh?’
‘Oh, no. We were excited and——’ Rex stopped quickly.
‘Excited over what?’ asked Hashknife quickly.
Rex shut his lips tightly and looked away for several moments. Finally he sighed softly.
‘Eggs,’ he said simply.
‘Excited over eggs?’
‘Yes. Oh, it doesn’t require much to excite me.’
‘Uh-huh.’
Hashknife and Sleepy exchanged glances. Hashknife was sure that Rex Morgan knew more than he was willing to tell. It was evident that this young tenderfoot was protecting Nan Lane—and Hashknife admired him for it.