had finished. "We already know they only
can testify to the same facts we've already heard. Say, Sorensen, you
go an' bring Bill Peabody back. We'll be votin' a verdict pretty short.
Now, stranger, you can get up an' say your say concernin' what happened.
In the meantime, we'll just be savin' delay by passin' around the two
rifles, the ammunition, an' the bullet that done the killin'."

Midway in his story of how he had arrived in that part of the country,
and at the point in his narrative where he described his own ambush
and how he had fled to the bank, Smoke was interrupted by the indignant
Shunk Wilson.

"Young man, what sense is there in you testifyin' that way? You're just
takin' up valuable time. Of course you got the right to lie to save your
neck, but we ain't goin' to stand for such foolishness. The rifle, the
ammunition, an' the bullet that killed Joe Kinade is against you. What's
that? Open the door, somebody!"

The frost rushed in, taking form and substance in the heat of the room,
while through the open door came the whining of dogs that decreased
rapidly with distance.

"It's Sorensen an' Peabody," some one cried, "a-throwin' the whip into
the dawgs an' headin' down river!"

"Now, what the hell--!" Shunk Wilson paused, with dropped jaw, and
glared at Lucy. "I reckon you can explain, Mrs. Peabody."

She tossed her head and compressed her lips, and Shunk Wilson's wrathful
and suspicious gaze passed on and rested on Breck.

"An' I reckon that newcomer you've been chinning with could explain if
HE had a mind to."

Breck, now very uncomfortable, found all eyes centered on him.

"Sam was chewing the rag with him, too, before he hit out," some one
said.

"Look here, Mr. Breck," Shunk Wilson continued. "You've been
interruptin' proceedings, and you got to explain the meanin' of it. What
was you chinnin' about?"

Breck cleared his throat timidly and replied. "I was just trying to buy
some grub."

"What with?"

"Dust, of course."

"Where'd you get it?"

Breck did not answer.

"He's been snoopin' around up the Stewart," a man volunteered. "I run
across his camp a week ago when I was huntin'. An' I want to tell you he
was almighty secretious about it."

"The dust didn't come from there," Breck said. "That's only a low-grade
hydraulic proposition."

"Bring your poke here an' let's see your dust," Wilson commanded.

"I tell you it didn't come from there."

"Let's see it, just the same."