“Yeah, it’s a wonder they didn’t accuse yuh of hittin’ him. Mebbe they went to look at the dead horse.”
“I wouldn’t put it past ’em,” laughed Honey. “But they’ll be here for the inquest, Ed.”
Even with the range well represented in Pinnacle City there was not a great deal of interest in the inquest over the body of the brakeman. He was a stranger, and there was but one verdict to be brought in. It would be merely a matter of form. In fact, the rewards were already printed, charging Joe Rich with the murder and offering thirty-five hundred dollars for him dead or alive, or for information that would lead to his arrest. It did not mention conviction. As far as that goes, he was already convicted.
Old Doctor Curzon decided to hold the inquest in a court-room. The crowd was too large for his little home and the county would not pay him for trampled flowerbeds. The body had already been identified by the trainmen. Aunt Emma, Peggy and Laura had taken seats in the Flying H wagon. They were not going up to the court-room. Aunt Emma wanted to find Honey and make him take the girls back home.
“Why did he bring you?” demanded the old lady. “With all this talk goin’ on! I’ll sure tell him where to head in!”
“I think it was Hashknife’s idea, Auntie,” said Peggy wearily.
“It was, eh? And who’s he to tell you what to do? The sooner you quit cryin’ over Joe Rich the better you’ll be off. After all he’s done to you! Peggy, you ought to have sense.”
“There comes Hashknife now!” exclaimed Peggy.
It seemed like a cry of hope. Something seemed to tell her that this tall cowboy riding up the middle of the street, sitting very straight in his saddle, was bringing a ray of sunshine.
He did not seem interested in the crowd. Straight to the hitch-rack he came, dismounted slowly and tied the horse.