“That is not the main question,” rejoined the parson thoughtfully. “The principal thing is to get at the truth about this accident. What happened up there at the top of the cliff? Did the man come down with the horse and these several tons of gravel and soil? And if he came down, what became of his body?” “Great saltpeter!” Hurley brought out his uncouth ejaculation with a new emphasis. “Do you suppose Tolley, after all, knows more about that than Nell does?” “What?” Then Hunt understood. “It might be,” he said slowly. “Evidently Tolley was not pleased by that gambler’s leaving him, any more than he was pleased by Miss Blossom’s leaving him. It might be——” “It might be,” finished Hurley with vigor, “that Boss Tolley is dragging a skunk after him to fool the hounds.” Hunt admitted the truth of this rather homely expression. “All the more reason why the girl must be questioned,” he said. “You’re crazy, Willie!” cried Hurley. “You will get nothing out of Nell—if she doesn’t want to talk. And if she knows anything at all about this, and is at all connected with the matter of Dick’s disappearance, you can just bet she’s got good reason for keeping her lips closed.” “For her own sake, she should confide in us—in you, at least. She will need our help and our support if this comes out.” “She’s got mine, whether or no,” Hurley said, slinging on his belt and gun again. Perhaps Hunt thought he spoke significantly as he hitched the weapon into place. He wagged a disagreeing head. “That sort of support will not save Nell Blossom’s soul,” he observed thoughtfully. “To blow off Tolley’s head will not help her one iota in cleansing her mind and heart of anguish if she has guilty knowledge of that man’s death—if he is dead.” “I tell you that Dick the Devil was well named,” cried Hurley furiously. “Why some man before this had not beaten him to death is a mystery. If Nell shot him off the edge of that cliff, he got what was coming to him, and no more.” “Oh!” murmured Hunt, with a shudder. “It might not be that she has such a terrible sin as that on her conscience!” “I don’t give a hang,” returned his friend. “If she had, there ain’t twelve men in Canyon County that would convict her of it. Don’t tell me!” “Oh, Joe! You don’t see. You don’t understand,” urged his friend sadly. “What matters man’s conviction of her crime? It is of what her own heart may convict her.” “’Twouldn’t bother me none if I’d sent Dick the Devil over that cliff,” declared Hurley. “But I leave it to you, parson. You maybe know more about such things than I do. To tell the truth, you do. Otherwise I wouldn’t have had any hopes of your doing any good in Canyon Pass. Maybe you know more about womankind than I do, as well,” he added, a bitter smile wreathing his lips once more. “I wish you all the luck in the world when you tackle Nell Blossom on this topic. But I wouldn’t be in your shoes for half my stock in the Great Hope.”