‘That is something I cannot tell you, Mr. Lane.’
‘Mm-m-m-m. Kinda funny.’
He turned from Rex and looked at Nan closely.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ he asked. ‘What makes yuh look at me like that, Nan? Don’tcha feel well?’
‘You swear you didn’t meet Peter Morgan at the stable this morning?’
‘I told yuh I didn’t. Was he here?’
‘He was here,’ she said. ‘I found him in the corral, near the corner of the stable—dead.’
‘What?’ The old man came closer to her, his eyes wide. ‘Nan, you don’t mean that! Not Peter Morgan!’
‘He had been hit over the head,’ she said slowly. ‘His horse was back in the willows; so we tied him on the saddle and turned the horse loose. He had drawn his gun, and we were so anxious to get him away from here that we forgot the gun, and the sheriff came along——’
‘My God! he didn’t see you, did he, Nan?’