Nan had stepped to the gate and was looking down toward the willow-lined creek, where a saddled horse stood, barely visible to them. It was a tall roan; the riding horse of Peter Morgan.
‘That was his horse,’ she told Rex. ‘He must have tied it down there, and then——’
‘Came looking for trouble.’
‘Oh, I suppose,’ wearily. ‘But what can we do, Rex?’
It was the first time she had called him Rex.
‘I was just wondering what would be the proper thing to do,’ he replied. ‘You see, I haven’t many ideas on the subject. My idea of it would be to get the body away from here and let them find it elsewhere. That would, at least, turn the finger of direct suspicion from your father; and that seems to be the primary idea, doesn’t it?’
Nan nodded quickly. ‘But how can we, Rex? Suppose some one saw us?’
‘I don’t know anything about what they would do, Nan. I just had an idea. I—you wait here a minute.’
He crossed the corral, climbed through the fence and came back shortly, leading the saddled horse.
‘We would have to dispose of the horse, too,’ he said, eyeing the body. ‘Suppose you get some rope.’