The Rangeland Avenger. Max Brand
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to forget you in a hurry."
There was a grim double meaning in that speech which Sandersen alone could understand. The others of the self-appointed posse had apparently made up their minds that Sandersen was right, and that this was a cold trail.
"It's like Sinclair says," admitted the judge. "We got to find a gent that had a reason for wishing to have Quade die. Where's the man?"
"Hunt for the reason first and find the man afterward," said big
Larsen, still smiling.
"All right! Did anybody owe Quade money, anybody Quade was pressing for it?"
It was the judge who advanced the argument in this solemn and dry form. Denver Jim declared that to his personal knowledge Quade had neither borrowed nor loaned.
"Well, then, had Quade ever made many enemies? We know Quade was a fighter. Recollect any gents that might hold grudges?"
"Young Penny hated the ground he walked on. Quade beat Penny to a pulp down by the Perkin water hole."
"Penny wouldn't do a murder."
"Maybe it was a fair fight," broke in Larsen.
"Fair nothin'," said Buck Mason. "Don't we all know that Quade was fast with a gun? He barely had it out in his hand when the other gent drilled him. And he was shot from above. No, sir, the way it happened was something like this. The murderin' skunk sat on his hoss saying goodby to Quade, and, while they was shaking hands or something like that, he goes for his gun and plugs Quade. Maybe it was a gent that knew he didn't have a chance agin' Quade. Maybe—"
He broke off short in his deductions and smote his hands together with a tremendous oath. "Boys, I got it! It's Cold Feet that done the job. It's Gaspar that done it!"
They stared at Buck vaguely.
"Mason, Cold Feet ain't got the nerve to shoot a rabbit."
"Not in a fight. This was a murder!"
"What's the schoolteacher's reason!"
"Don't he love Sally Bent? Didn't Quade love her?" He raised his voice.
"I'm a big fool for forgetting! Didn't I see him ride over the hill to
Quade's place and come back in the evening? Didn't I see it? Why else
would he have called on Quade?"
There was a round chorus of oaths and exclamations. "The poisonous little skunk! It's him! We'll string him up!"
With a rush they started for the door.
"Wait!" called Riley Sinclair.
Bill Sandersen watched him with a keen eye. He had studied the face of the big man from up north all during the scene, and he found the stern features unreadable. For one instant now he guessed that Sinclair was about to confess.
"If you don't mind seven in one party," said Riley Sinclair, "I think I'll go along to see justice done. You see, I got a sort of secondhand interest in this necktie party."
Mason clapped him on the shoulder. "You're just the sort of a gent we need," he declared.
6
Down in the kitchen they demanded a loaf of bread and some coffee from the Chinese cook, and then the seven dealers of justice took horse and turned into the silence of the long mountain trail.
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