d so does the jury; but we can take that
matter up later. You can step down, Mr. Hanscom, and we'll hear James B.
Durgin."

Durgin, a bent, gray-bearded old rancher, took the stand and swore that
he had witnessed a hot wrangle between Kauffman and Watson, and that he
had heard the Dutchman say, "I'll get you for this!"

Hanscom, realizing that Durgin was Kitsong's chief new witness, was
quick to challenge his testimony, and finally forced him to admit that
Watson had also threatened Kauffman, so that the total effect of his
testimony was rather more helpful than harmful.

"Is it not a matter of common report, Mr. Coroner," demanded the ranger,
"that Watson has had many such quarrels? I am told that he had at least
one fierce row with Busby--"

"We'll come to that," interjected Carmody, as Durgin left the chair.
"Have you Rita's shoes, Mr. Sheriff?" Throop handed up a pair of women's
shoes, and Carmody continued: "You swear these are the shoes worn by
Margarita Cuneo when you took charge of her?"

"I do."

"Mr. Hanscom, will you examine these shoes and say whether they are the
ones worn by Rita Cuneo when you arrested her?"

Hanscom took them. "I think they are the same, but I cannot tell
positively without comparing them with my drawings."

The jury, deeply impressed by this new and unexpected evidence, minutely
examined the shoe soles and compared them with the drawings while the
audience waited in tense expectancy.

"They sure fit," said the spokesman of the jury.

Raines objected. "Even if they do _seem_ to fit, that is not conclusive.
We don't know _when_ the tracks were made. They may have been made after
the murder or before."

"Call Rita Cuneo," said Carmody to the sheriff.

The girl came to the stand, looking so scared, so pale, and so small
that some of the women, without realizing the importance of her
testimony, clicked their tongues in pity. "Dear, dear! How young she
is!" they exclaimed.

Carmody, by means of a few rapid questions gently expressed, drew out
her name, her age, and some part of her family history, and then, with
sudden change of manner, bluntly asked:

"How did you happen to be in that cabin with those two men?"

Pitifully at a loss, she finally stammered out an incoherent explanation
of how they were just riding by and saw the door standing open, and went
in, not meaning any harm. She denied knowing Watson, but admitted having
met him on the road several times, and hotly i