old Edouard Dubois, and the very same day
that she had married him for his money. As a result, Crowheart was astir
at dawn, bearing every evidence of a sleepless night and a hasty
toilette.

This was the town's first real murder mystery. To be sure, there was the
sheep-herder, who was found with his throat cut and his ear taken for a
souvenir; but there was not much mystery about that, because he was off
his range and had been duly warned. Also there had been plain killings
over cards and ladies of the dance hall--surprising sometimes, but only
briefly interesting--certainly never anything mysterious and thrilling
like this.

Sylvanus Starr in that semi-conscious state midway between waking and
sleeping, composed a headline which appeared on the "Extra" issued
shortly after breakfast.

"A Man, a Maid, a Marriage and a Murder" read the headline, and while
the editor made no definite charges, he declared in double-leaded type
that the County should spare no expense to bring the assassin to justice
_regardless of sex_, and the phrase "the dastardly murder of a good
citizen and an honorable man" passed from lip to lip unmindful of the
fact that in life Dubois had not been regarded as either.

That portion of Crowheart which was pleased to speak of itself as the
"sane and conservative element" endeavored to suspend sentence until the
deputy-sheriff should return with further details, but even they were
forced to admit that, from the meagre account furnished by Dr. Harpe,
"it certainly looked bad for Essie Tisdale."

Dan Treu and the coroner, who was also the local baker, started
immediately for the sheep-ranch, and Dr. Harpe accompanied them. "Ess
looked about 'all in,'" she said in explanation.

They found the girl and the Dago Duke waiting by the fire which he had
built outside the cabin. Huddled in a blanket which he had thrown about
her shoulders she sat staring into the fire with the shocked look which
never left her eyes. Utter, utter weariness was in her flower-like face
and over and over again her subconsciousness was asking her tired brain,
"What next? What horrible thing can happen to me next? What is there
left to happen?" She felt crushed in spirit, unresentful even of Dr.
Harpe's presence, for she felt herself at the mercy of whosoever chose
to be merciless. But the Dago Duke was unhampered by any such feelings.
He commented loudly as Dr. Harpe swaggered toward them with her hands
thrust deep in the pock