"Just at this moment I am," I replied.
Sally gave me another little hug, and then, disengaging herself from my arms, she sat down beside me.
"I can only stay a minute. Oh, it's safe enough. But I told Diane I was to meet you and she's waiting to hear if Steele is—is—"
"Steele's safe so far," I interrupted.
"There were men coming and going all day. Uncle Roger never appeared at meals. He didn't eat, Diane said. George tramped up and down, smoking, biting his nails, listening for these messengers. When they'd leave he'd go in for another drink. We heard him roar some one had been shot and we feared it might be Steele."
"No," I replied, steadily.
"Did Steele shoot anybody?"
"No. A rustler named March tried to draw on Steele, and someone in the crowd killed March."
"Someone? Russ, was it you?"
"It sure wasn't. I didn't happen to be there."