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remember taking those last swallows. He pushed back his chair and got up. It was time to go see Mary Ann.
    â€œPriss,” he suggested, “if you see the judge, tell him I want to see him. I’ll be back in a short time.”
    â€œAin’t been down for his mail, so I reckon you’ll see him right here. He coffees up whenever he gets mail and reads it whilst he drinks. But I’ll tell him. Just you be back to see him when he gets here.”
    They all heard the shot.
    It was some distance off, but it had a clear, distinct report that cut across their conversation, stilling their tongues, leaving them staring.
    Shots were not uncommon at night, occasionally in the daytime, but rarely in the late afternoon before the drinkers got well started and after the hunters had come in…if any.
    Yet there was something about that shot that hit them all, and for a moment they just stared, frightened and wondering.
    Borden Chantry got up and went outside. He knew it as well as if he’d seen it happen.
    Somebody else was dead.

Chapter 6
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    H E LAY SPRAWLED at the door of the stable, his face in the fresh straw, one hand outflung and holding a bridle, the other by his side, empty.
    The hands were seamed and gnarled with work, such work as even the months of hard drinking had failed to eradicate. From earliest childhood Johnny McCoy had only known work, and had never shirked his share, only to have the drink catch up to him at last.
    Billy stood beside the body when they came running, his face white, his eyes wide and staring.
    â€œBill,” Chantry put a hand on the thin shoulder, “I’m sorry, boy.”
    Even as he spoke he was noting the bullet hole in the side of the skull, his eyes sweeping the area for the place of the marksman.
    There was no use running and chasing, for the man would be long gone, and to rush in now with a lot of would-be pursuers would only trample any evidence that might have been left.
    There were a dozen men there, and as many women. Borden turned slowly to face them. “Now listen,” he said loudly, “and hear me plain. You’re each to go directly to your homes, and stop for nothing on the way. Go directly there and stay in until morning, or settle with me.”
    â€œWhat about my business?” Reardon demanded.
    â€œOne night won’t hurt you,” Chantry said coolly, “and I don’t want everything tramped up and spoiled. With luck I’ll have found what I want by daylight.”
    â€œAnd what’ll that be?” Blazer demanded irritably.
    â€œThat’s my business,” Chantry replied brusquely. “Just get on home now.”
    â€œAnd what if we don’t?” Puggsey Kern demanded.
    Borden Chantry smiled. “Why, I’ll throw you in jail for disturbing the peace, for loitering, and as many other charges as I can find to answer the bill. But any loyal citizen who wants this mystery cleared up will do all he can to help.”
    â€œThat goes with me,” Lang Adams said. “Anything you need, Bord, you just call out.”
    Big Injun was there with the wagon, and they loaded Johnny McCoy into the back. Borden dropped his hand to Billy’s shoulder. “Son, you’d better go along to my house. Bess and Tom will be mighty glad to have you with us.”
    Reluctantly, the boy went, stunned and silent. As yet, there had been no tears. That would come, Borden knew, when Billy was alone and away from watching eyes.
    Slowly, the crowd scattered to their homes, and there they would stay…unless the killer was among them. For what better thing for him to do than run up and join the crowd? One by one he sorted them out in his mind, then shook his head. No…not in that bunch.
    Hardly likely. Yet he remained uneasy. He simply did not know, and all his clues seemed to lead to nothing.
    Johnny had himself been a suspect, although not a serious one in Chantry’s thinking. Yet…he had to be