"Nate told me."
"Damn Nate, that's all I got to say," pronounced the marshal, disgusted at the duplicity of a former friend. "I was wonderin' where you got the notion so sudden of coming out here. Damn that— Excuse me, Miss, for cussin'. What's that you want to know, Rale? Yes, I was there and she slung a knife at Nate. With any luck she'd had hit him and serve him right, the flat-tongued snitch."
"There now," exclaimed the triumphant district attorney, "you hear that, Miss Walton? You drove into town the morning after the murder. When you are told of the murder and the warrant, you fly into a passion and try to kill the inoffensive storekeeper who told you the news. Not content with this, you throw what you've already bought at the storekeeper and make your purchases at the other store. I have learned that among the purchases were twelve boxes of .45-90 rifle cartridges and six boxes of .45 caliber Colt cartridges. I have reason to believe that these cartridges are not intended for your personal use. In fact, I am positive you bought them for the murderer, William H. Wingo."
The marshal glanced quickly at the district attorney. He himself had not been aware of the ammunition item. The marshal inwardly cursed the district attorney and Nate Samson.
"Well," boomed the district attorney, when Hazel did not instantly speak, "what have you to say?"
"Plenty," said she then. "I bought those cartridges for my personal use. This Winchester is a .45-90 and my six-shooter is a .45. I guess I've got a right to buy ammunition now and then if I like."
"Rats!" snarled the district attorney, stiff in his conceit. "What does a girl want with two hundred and forty rifle cartridges and three hundred revolver cartridges? Those revolver cartridges especially? You won't have use for 'em in ten years. You bought them for Bill Wingo. You can't fool me! You know where he is, you know you do, and I know you do, and I intend to put you in jail as a suspicious character until you tell us where he is."
"What a filthy animal you are, anyway, Rale! I didn't know such things as you lived!" Thus Sally Jane, her upper lip fairly, curling with disgust.
"When I get back to Golden Bar, Miss Walton," fumed the district attorney, unmoved by the insult, "I intend to swear out a warrant for your arrest, and have it served by deputy sheriffs. If necessary, I shall swear in deputies other than the two men, Shotgun Shillman and Riley Tyler, for the purpose of serving this warrant. I intend to have the law obeyed."
"She ain't busted any law that I can see," struck in Sam Larder gruffly.