"That," said Edith, "might be called a spiral remark. Would it be impertinent to ask you to specify?"

"Not at all. Superfluous. See for yourself. Old Sobersides, here--you might give him the benefit of the doubt--he's so durned practical. But Adam and me, Uncle Dan and your Dad--there's no doubt about us, I'm afraid. It's right quaint to see how proud those old roosters are of the lurid past. When one of 'em gets on the peck, all you got to do is to start relatin' how wild they used to be, and they'll be eatin' out of your hand in no time. They ought to be ashamed of themselves--silly old donkeys!"

"How about the women?" asked Lyn.

"I've never been able to make a guess. But there's so few of you out here at the world's end, that you don't count for much, either way."

"Lyn realizes that," said Hobby. "Here at the ragged edge of things she knows that the men outnumber the women five to one. So she tries to make up for it. She is a friendly soul."

Miss Lyn Dyer ignored this little speech and harked back to the last observation of Charlie See. "So you did manage to notice that, did you? I'm surprised. They've amused me for years--Uncle Dan and Uncle Pete; how mean they were, the wild old days and the chimes at midnight! But a girl--oh, dear me, how very different! No hoydens need apply! A notably unwild boy is reproached as a sissy and regarded with suspicion, but a girl must not even play at being wild. 'Prunes, prisms and potatoes!' Podsnap! Pecksniff! Turveydrop and Company!

Doesn't anyone ever realize that it might be a tame business never to be wild at all?"

"'Tis better to be wild and weep--"

"Now, Hobby Lull, you hush up! The answer is, No. Catechism. A man expects from his womankind a scrupulous decorum which he is far too broad-minded to require from himself or his mates--charitable soul!

Laughter and applause. Cries of 'That's true!'--Anything more grossly unfair--"

_Rub-a-dub! Rub-a-dub! Rub-a-dub!_

Three men thundered over the _'cequia_ bridge. At the first drum of furious hoofs See wheeled his horse sharply.

"What's that? Trouble!" The three hors.e.m.e.n swooped from the bridge, pounding on the beaten road. "Trouble, sure!"

"You two girls light out of this! Ride!" said Lull. He spurred to the open door of the store. "Pete!" he called, and turned back.

"Adam?" said Charlie. "Something wrong up Redgate way. Adam's there, and no one else that we know of."

"I'm afraid so. Horse fell on him maybe--dynamite or something. Here they come. Big Ed and Jody Weir. I don't know the third man."

The hors.e.m.e.n were upon them. "Murder!" cried Caney. "Adam Forbes has been murdered! Up in Redgate. The murderer came this way. We trailed him to the bridge. His horse had lost a shoe."

"Adam Forbes!"

"Who is to tell Edith?" said Charlie See, under his breath.

"Someone's going to hang for this. When we found him--I never had such a shock in my life!" said Jody Weir. "Shot from behind--three times.

The powder burned his shirt. Adam never had a chance. Cold-blooded murder. Adam was holding fast to his rifle, wrong side up, just as he pulled it from the scabbard. That man came through here."

"Or stopped here," amended Caney. "Might have been a Garfield man, of course. I've heard that Forbes was tol'able arbitrary."

"We met a stranger coming down from Redgate, something like an hour and a half ago," said Hobby. "But if he had just killed a man, I'll eat my hat. That man was feeling fine. Only a boy, too. Someone else did it, I guess."

"And he'd been riding slow. No sweat on his horse," added Charlie.

"Couldn't have been anyone else. There wasn't any other tracks, except the tracks of Adam's horse. They turned off south as soon as he got out of the mouth of the canon."

"How'd you know it was Adam's horse?" This was Pete Harkey, at the open door.

"Saw where the bridle reins dragged. Say! Any you fellows comin' with us? That man killed Forbes, I tell you--and we're goin' after him.

Only about two hours till dark--two and a half at most--and a rain coming up. This is no time for talking. We can talk on the road."

"Anybody stay with Adam?" asked Pete.

"No. There was just the three of us. We came full chisel after the murderer, hard as we could ride. Come on--get some of your men together--let's ride," said Caney impatiently. "Get a wiggle on, can't you? Let's find out which way he went and what he looked like. He came here. No chance for mistake. The body was still warm."

"I saw him! I saw him!" cackled the storekeeper. "Little man, smaller than Charlie--and young. About twenty. Came in after you all left," he said, addressing Lull. "Mailed a letter. Ridin' a blue horse, he was--a _grullo_. That the man you met?"

"Yes. But riding a blue horse doesn't prove that a man has done murder. Nor yet mailing a letter. Or being young. We knew that man went through Garfield. That's nothing new. He told us he was going on to Hillsboro."

"That was a blind, I reckon. He can turn always back, soon as he gets out of sight," said Hales.

"He went that way," piped the storekeeper. "Mailed a letter here, bought a shoe and tacked it on his horse. I fished round to find out who he was, but he put me off. Finally I asked him, p'int-blank. 'You didn't say what your name was,' says I. 'No,' says he, 'I didn't.' And off he went, laughing, impydent as h.e.l.l!"

"Did you notice the brand on his horse?" asked Charlie. "He pa.s.sed on our right-hand side, so we didn't see it."

"No, I didn't. He took the Greenhorn road, and he was ridin' middlin'

slow."

"If you had used your mouth less and your eyes more, you might have something to tell us," sneered Hales.

"Little man on a _grullo_ horse--that's enough for us--we're goin'!"

snapped Caney. "Say, you fellers make me plumb sick! The murderer's getting away, and all you do is blat. We're goin', and we're goin'

now!"

"Something tells me you won't," said Pete Harkey.

He had mysteriously acquired a shotgun from his buckboard, and he c.o.c.ked both hammers with the word. "Not till we talk a little.

According to your tell, the killing was done in Sierra County. That's my county, and we figure we are plenty competent to skin our own skunks. Also, we want one good long look before we leap. You three are the only men who can tell us anything, and we want to know what you know, so we'll not lose time or make mistakes. We can't afford to shoot so as to hit if it's a deer and miss if it's a mule. You fellers are excited. What you need is a head. I'll be head.

"You just calm down a little. I'll be getting a posse together to go back and look into this. You can be fixing to give us some idea what's happened. After that, these two boys can go with you. They've seen this stranger and they'll know him on a fresh horse. All you three know about his looks is a blue horse. I'm going up where Adam was killed. Where was it? Don't be nervous about this gun. I never shot a man accidentally in my life. Where was Adam killed?"

"In Redgate. Near the upper end. We was looking--"

"That's enough. You wait till I send for some friends of mine." Pete raised his voice. "Girls! Ride over here! Now you folks keep still till the girls get away. Toad Hales, is it? I've seen you before, Mr.

Hales.... Edith, you go to the mill and tell Jerome I want him. Lyn, you go to Chuck Barefoot's and tell him to get Jim-Ike-Jones and come here and be quick about it. Then you girls go home."

"What is it, Uncle Pete? Adam?" said Lyn, with a quivering lip.

"Yes, dear. Go on, now."

"Dead?"

"Murdered!"

"Adam!"

Both girls cried the name in an agony of horror and pity. Edith bent to her horse's mane; and Lyn rode straight to Hobby Lull.

"Oh, Hobby! Be careful--come back to me!" She raised her lips to his.