Blackwood and two of the men dismounted, and one of them put the wounded man on his saddle and rode away with him.
Blue chewed savagely on his tobacco and stared at Doc Clevis, who seemed indifferent to it all.
“Arrestin’ folks ain’t in my line,” stated Doc, as if in self-defense. “I’m here to take charge of the body of Lonesome Lee.”
“What’s your line, Blue?” asked Hashknife, and the Lodge-Pole sheriff swore feelingly.
“If cussin’ showed ability, you’d be Secretary of War,” said Hashknife. “What’s all this about Lonesome Lee bein’ dead?”
“We-well!” snorted Doc Clevis wonderingly.
“He’s in there,” said Blue pointing into the house. “By ——, I’m goin’ t’ find out about things.”
He brushed past Skelton, who stepped aside at a nod from Hashknife, and they all went inside. Blue and the doctor looked around. The blood-stained blanket on the bed caught Blue’s eye, and he pounced on it quickly.
“Whose blood is that?” he asked triumphantly.
“You can have it, if you want it,” said Hashknife.