"Then who did—yore wife?" demanded Olson.
"Neither of us. I—I'll tell you-all the whole story."
"Do you know who did kill him?" Kirby persisted.
"I come pretty near knowing but I didn't see it done."
"Who, then?"
"Yore cousin—James Cunningham."
CHAPTER XXXVII
ON THE GRILL
In spite of the fact that his mind had at times moved toward his cousin
James as the murderer, Kirby experienced a shock at this accusation.
He happened to glance at Olson, perhaps to see the effect of it upon
him.
The effect was slight, but it startled Kirby. For just an instant the Dry Valley farmer's eyes told the truth—shouted it as plainly as words could have done. He had expected that answer from Hull. He had expected it because he, too, had reason to believe it the truth. Then the lids narrowed, and the man's lip lifted in a sneer of rejection. He was covering up.