“I don’t believe we quite understand you,” said Coburn.
“It was plain English,” replied Hashknife.
“But—but—” spluttered the attorney. No one else spoke; all were too interested for words.
“So we’ll jist have to do without ’em,” said Hashknife. “Yuh see, I’m playin’ safe, folks.”
His lips twisted to a grin, but his eyes were cold, mirthless.
“This is an inquest over the body of a murdered man, a man who was shot down in the performance of his duty, and he was killed at a time when the lives of a lot of folks might have been at stake.
“You’ve merely met here as a matter of form to make it legal to hunt down and destroy Joe Rich. Ain’t I right?”
“Perfectly!” snapped the attorney.
“Uh-huh. Well, how would it be to git a little of that testimony from a real interested party?” Hashknife glanced toward the doorway.
“C’mon in,” he said loudly.