“Mm-m-m-m.”
Butch touched spur to his horse and moved in beside Chuck, leaving Hashknife to bring up the rear. But the tall, gray-eyed cowboy didn’t seem to mind. He grinned widely and began rolling a cigarette.
Hashknife and Sleepy testified at the inquest on the following day, but the questions were perfunctory. There was no evidence to connect Rance McCoy with the killing; so the coroner’s jury decided that Billy DuMond had been killed by a gun-shot wound, fired by a party or parties unknown. But they did recommend that the sheriff apprehend Rance McCoy.
Which was a rather ridiculous recommendation, as the sheriff already wanted Rance on the charge of robbing the Wells Fargo Express Company. Hashknife had asked Slim not to exhibit the black sombrero, and Slim respected Hashknife’s wishes to the extent that no mention was made of the hat.
Reimer and his crew were there, but none of them made any mention of the hat. After the inquest Butch Reimer asked Slim who had the hat, and was informed that the hat was locked up in the office safe. Butch did not comment on it, nor did he ask just why Billy DuMond’s hat should be locked up in a safe.
Billy DuMond’s body was duly interred that day, and there were no mourners. Butch Reimer paid the preacher and the doctor, who acted in the capacity of undertaker, and Billy DuMond was consigned to what was known as the “Red Arrow Cemetery”—the wind-swept slope of a hill surrounded with greasewood.
“I’m goin’ to git the man who shot Billy,” Butch Reimer was heard to declare, and every one knew he meant Rance McCoy.
“You better not announce yore approach,” grinned Jim Langley, who came in for the inquest. “He’s one hard old jigger.”
Langley had Jess Fohl with him. Jess drank quite a lot of liquor before the funeral, and cried all the way back to town, where Langley told him he’d cut his ears off if he took another drink. Langley came down and talked with Slim and Hashknife about old Rance. Langley did not seem to think that Rance shot DuMond, but he would not even venture a guess as to who had killed him.
“Why don’tcha think it was Rance?” queried Hashknife.