“Nope. I heard Jake Blue say that it was likely that folks hadn’t forgot what happened to their graveyard—but Quinin didn’t have nothin’ to do with that. He came here quite a while after that.”
“Folks got kinda sore about it, eh?” queried Hashknife.
“Yeap. Can you blame ’em? They sure as —— lost track of their ancestors. Ev’body tried to relocate their dead, but it was no use. M’ wife had one of them Kodiak things that you take pictures with, and she photygraphed the graveyard one day; but it’s kinda blurred-like. They took that along to try and figure out things, but it didn’t help ’em a danged bit.”
“Lots of folks buried there, eh?” queried Hashknife.
Barney nodded.
“All them markers in Skelton’s yard indicates a body. The first corpse was old Billy Meek, who was some sanctimonious old whippoorwill; and the last one was a gambler by the name of ‘Faro’. I never did know his name.
“Spot Easton shot him over a poker-table. Folks kicked about him bein’ buried in the cemetery, and old ‘Peg-leg’ Smith refused to dig the grave; but Spot and Doc Clevis dug the grave, and I reckon Jake Blue performed the funeral oration—I dunno. Anyway, Faro never got a headstone, ’cause his grave-mound was lost with the rest.”
“Did they bury this here Faro person right in with the rest?” asked Hashknife.
“Danged if I know for sure. Seems to me that somebody said they planted him off to one side; kinda between the others and the creek. I never seen the grave.”
Came the sound of a boot on gravel, and they turned to see Doctor Clevis coming in the front door. He peered at Hashknife and Sleepy.