Piney did not wait to see whether the sheriff replied to his call. Instead he beckoned violently to the handful of men grouped on the sidewalk in front of the hotel.
"C'mon over!" he bawled. "Look what I found here this morning."
Jack Harpe and the owner of the Starlight being among those present and responding to the invitation, Racey Dawson took a chance and went with the rest.
"Look at that," said Piney Jackson, indicating a humped-up individual sitting behind the woodpile.
Racey and the other spectators went round the woodpile and viewed the
humped-up individual. The latter was Bull, the Starlight bartender.
And he was dead, very dead. His throat had been cut from ear to ear.
He was a ghastly object.
"Who done it?" inquired one of the fools that infest every group of men.
"He didn't leave any card," the blacksmith replied with sarcasm.
The fool asked no more questions. Came then Jake Rule and Kansas Casey. Jake, a rather heavy, well-meaning officer, old at the business, began to sniff about for clues. Kansas Casey laid the body down on its back and thoroughly searched the pockets of the clothing.
"One thing," said Kansas Casey, looking up from what he had found—a handful of silver dollars, a pocket knife, and a silver watch, "robbery wasn't the motive."
Racey looked sidewise from under his eyebrows at Jack Harpe. The latter was staring down unmoved at the dead body.