The saloon-keeper cleared his throat. "Old Dale's been killed."
"Has, huh? Who killed him?" Racey allowed his eyes casually to skim the expressionless faces of the men backed against the walls.
"A stranger killed him," replied McFluke, heavily.
Racey removed his eyes from the slack-chinned countenance of the saloon-keeper to thin-faced, foxy-nosed Luke Tweezy. Luke's little eyes met his.
"You saw this stranger, Luke?" he asked.
Luke Tweezy nodded. "We all saw him."
"He was playing draw with Honey Hoke and Peaches Austin and me," Doc
Coffin offered, oilily.
"And the stranger?" amended Racey.
"And the stranger," Doc Coffin accepted the amendment.
"What was the trouble?" pursued Racey.