Blue had nothing to say. Men crowded around them, wondering what had been the reason for the fight, but none of the three victims seemed inclined to explain things. Hagen got to his feet and started for the door.
“You!” gritted Easton bitterly.
Hagen scowled blackly and shouldered his way out of the door, where he turned and glared back at Easton.
“Aw! You be ——!” he snorted, and went away.
“It’s a large night,” said Blue inanely.
The coroner’s inquest over the remains of Quinin Quinn caused little excitement in Caldwell. The fact that Quinin was dead was enough in itself; who killed him, was merely conjectured and Lodge-Pole county felt that it would remain so, according to precedent.
The jury listened patiently to Hashknife, Sleepy and Skelton, while Doc Clevis, puffing with his own importance, crossquestioned them. Swede Sam was there, blank-faced over the whole thing, and all that Doc Clevis could get from him was:
“Ay dunno. Ay am de cook.”
Neither Easton nor Blondy Hagen was at the inquest, which was held at the doctor’s home. Sheriff Blue glared silently at the floor during the proceedings, looking at no one.