Marshal Crow turned upon the speaker with some severity. "See here, Alf, are you tryin' to act like Newt Spratt?" That was a deadly insult to Alf. "What do you mean?" he demanded hotly. "Nothin'--except that Newt had the same kind of an idee in his head that you seem to have got into yours. Next time you see Newt you tell him I been laughin' myself almost sick over the way I fooled him,--the blamed iggoramus." Having planted a seed that was intended to bear the fruit of justification, the venerable marshal decided that now was the time to prepare himself against anything further in the shape of surprise. So he linked arms with Alf and started off down the street. "Now, see here, Alf," he began, somewhat sternly. "I won't stand for any beatin' about the bush from you. You got to tell me the whole truth an' nothin' but the truth, and if your story hangs together and agrees with what I've already worked out,--I'll see that you get fair treatment and--" Alf stopped short. "What in sassafras are you talkin' about? What story?" "Begin at the beginnin' and tell me where you was last night, and _early this morning_, and where and when you last saw Jake Miller." The marshal's manner was decidedly accusative, although tempered by sadness. Something in his voice betrayed a great and illy concealed regret that this life-long friend had got himself so seriously entangled in the Jacob Miller affair. "Where was I last night and this morning?" repeated the astonished Alf. "Percisely," said Anderson, tightening his grip on Alf's arm. "In bed," said Alf succinctly. "Come, now," warned the marshal; "none of that. I want the truth out of you. When did you last see Jake Miller,--and what was he doing?" "I saw him about half an hour ago, and he wasn't doin' anything." "I mean, before he came to his untimely end." "I don't know what you're drivin' at, but if it gives you any satisfaction I c'n say that the last time I saw him alive was yesterday afternoon about four o'clock. He was unloadin' some baled hay over at Ed's feed-yard and--that's all." "How was he actin'?" "He was actin' like a man unloadin' hay." "Did he appear to have anything on his mind? I mean anything more than usual?" "Couldn't say." "Did he look pale or upset-like?" "I kinder thought,--afterwards,--that he did look a _leetle_ pale. Sort of as if he'd eat something that didn't agree with him." "I see. Well, go on." "Go on what?" "Tellin' me. Where did you next see him?" "Oh, there was a lot of people saw him after I did. Why don't you ask them?" "Answer my question." "I didn't see him again until about half past seven this morning. He was hangin' from a rafter in Ed's stable. My God, it was awful! I know I'll dream about Jake for the next hundred years." "Did he have a rope around his neck?" "No, he didn't." Anderson started. This was an unexpected reply. "Well,--er, what _did_ he have around his neck?" "A halter strap." "You--you're sure about that?" "Positive."