“Well, just what did you wish to know?” he asked.
“All about it,” smiled Hashknife. “They tell me Jim Wheeler died from concussion of the brain.”
“You might call it that. His skull was crushed. Wonder he lived at all.”
“And they tell me that his skull was crushed by the rocks.”
“No doubt of it. I don’t believe you told me your name.”
“Hartley. I’m out at the HJ ranch—Jim Wheeler’s place.”
“Oh, yes. No, I don’t think there is any doubt of Wheeler’s head having been crushed by the rocks. You know how a body would bound, fastened by one foot to a stirrup.”
“The rocks cut kinda deep, didn’t they, Doc?”
“Mm-m-m-m—well, yes.”
“Do yuh know—it’s a funny thing, Doc?”