ant was one of being on the point of seeing behind the curtain of
a mystery, of making a discovery so sinister that she would gasp. Her
very finger almost rested upon it. Why were Mr. Sorenson and Mr.
Burkhardt talking as they were? Trying by innuendo to make it seem her
companion might have been guilty of a crime? Could it be---- Her blood
slowly congealed to ice at the horror of where her reasoning led.

_Could it be they were the enemies he meant!_

Such a thing was too dreadful, too absurd. They, the respected leaders
of the community, could never put a pistol in the dead wretch's hand
to slay this man beside her. Mr. Sorenson! The father of Ed, whom----
She stared blankly at her left hand.

Yet the banker's heavy, smooth words continued to assail her ears
steadily. She grasped their import once more.

"--for the story is too thin. No man could hit another across the
street in the dark as this engineer claims, not only once but twice
put a bullet where it would kill. Probably the dead man had something
on this Weir, and the latter knew it. It's not impossible he found the
fellow in his path, drew and murdered him at once, quickly put a hole
in his own hat and then carried the body across the way, running back
to Martinez' office. The thing could have been done in a minute.
Martinez' himself wouldn't have seen how it was worked. I'm not saying
that was exactly how it was done, or that this Weir did actually
murder him, but--investigate, Madden, investigate."

Steele Weir felt an angry tug at his sleeve. He looked around and
beheld Janet Hosmer's eyes distended with incredulity.

"Come away, come away," she whispered. "I should never have believed
it if I hadn't heard with my own ears!"

Keeping close to the line of buildings, they skirted the crowd, still
unnoticed, and left it behind. She walked with quick nervous steps;
her hand yet unconsciously grasped his coat sleeve. All the way to her
home, which they found dark since a messenger had called the doctor to
the court house and the Mexican girl servant also was gone, she said
nothing.

"Come up on the veranda; I want to talk," she announced when he opened
the gate.

"Wouldn't it be best if you took your mind off the whole thing, by a
book or something else? I'll go."

"As if I could take my mind off! There are matters in this I must
know. You may wonder when I say it, Mr. Weir, but this happening
concerns me more than you dream." Her dark glowing gaze