"If you mean the one tied to the wagon," replied Hazel, "it belongs to Sally Jane Prescott."
"What of it?" demanded Sally Jane, appraising the trio with a cool glance.
"Visitors in my kitchen take off their hats," reminded Hazel severely.
The three men sheepishly removed their hats and sheathed their firearms.
"That's better," said Hazel. "You don't know how silly you looked, rushing in here brandishing your guns that way. I was quite frightened for a minute." Here she giggled and winked at Sally Jane.
"We thought maybe Bill Wingo was here," said Craft.
"And what made you think Bill Wingo was here?" asked Hazel.
"That horse outside," he replied, watching her shrewdly. "Do you mind if I search the house?"
"I certain do mind!" cried Hazel. "You dare search this house! Just you try it!"
"I'll bet the man's here," struck in the district attorney, pushing to the front. "Good thing we surrounded the house first. If you've got Bill Wingo hidden anywhere, you give him up, do you hear, Hazel?"