‘Queer?’ Nan struggled to keep her voice calm. If she ever needed self-possession she needed it now.
‘Queer about him getting hit on the head, I mean. It seems to be sort of a habit around here.’
Nan leaned against the wall of the stable, trying to think just what to do.
‘Who do you suppose killed him?’ queried Rex. It was rather strange that he wasn’t at all excited.
‘Oh, don’t you see what it will mean?’ whispered Nan. ‘This is Peter Morgan. He hated my father, and my father has threatened to kill any of his outfit that came here.’
‘Your father threatened him? Do you suppose he killed him?’
‘I—I don’t know. No! Why, if he killed him, he wouldn’t leave the body there—here. But they won’t believe it. My father left here early this morning. Why—why he and Morgan had a fight in Mesa City yesterday. This is terrible!’
‘I begin to understand,’ said Rex slowly. ‘If they find the body here, they will say your father killed him.’
‘Yes, yes! Oh, what can I do?’
‘Well, the first thing to do is to get rid of the body, I suppose. Of course the man is dead, and it won’t make a particle of difference to him. I think we——’