Spike dismounted and came inside. It did not take them long to satisfy themselves that Long Lane was not in the house.
‘We forgot about the winders on this side of the house,’ said Spike. ‘He could ’a’ gone out that one, Morgan.’
‘And fastened it behind himself,’ sneered Morgan. ‘Guess ag’in. No, he made you folks think he was goin’ to stop, but kept on goin’. Probably went through the house, circled around to the stable and saddled a fresh horse. But we’ll get him if he stays in this country.’
‘Of course, I’m only the sheriff,’ said Lem slowly, ‘but I’d shore like to find out what this killin’ was about.’
‘It started in Mesa City,’ said Morgan. ‘Young Lane had been drinkin’, and they met in the Oasis. Mebby Ben had a few drinks. I dunno exactly what it was about, Lem: but the boys said Ben called Lane a nester. One word led to another and they started a fight. I reckon it was a good fight, until Ben kinda got the best of it, and then Lane hit him with a chair.’
‘He knocked Ben down with it,’ declared Spike. ‘And before we could stop him he started to put the boots to Ben. But he didn’t hurt Ben much, before we stopped him, and then Lane started for home. Ben woke up and—and——’
‘And took out after Lane, eh?’ queried the sheriff.
‘Yeah. Ben was crazy mad. He fought fair, Ben did.’
‘And Lane killed him, eh?’
‘We took out after Ben right away,’ said Spike. ‘If it was goin’ to mean another fight, we intended to see that it was a fair one. We found Ben about a mile and a half from town, layin’ beside the road, with a bullet through his head. He’s there yet.’