"You don't look like a man that would lose his head, Mr. Lane."
A smile lit the brown face of the witness. "Perhaps I wouldn't where I come from, but I'm not used to city ways. I didn't know what to do. So I followed my instinct an' bolted. I was unlucky enough to be seen."
"Carry a gun, Mr. Lane?"
"No." He corrected himself. "Sometimes I do on the range."
"Own one, I suppose?"
"Two. A .45 and a .38."
"Bring either of them to Denver?"
"No, sir."
"Did you see any gun of any kind in your uncle's rooms—either a revolver or an automatic?"
"I did not."