"Maybe they got him quick," Mr. Saltoun offered, sardonically. They rode on and added their horses to the tail-switching string in front of the saloon. Racey did not fail to note that none of the other horses gave any evidence of having been ridden either hard or lately. Which, in the face of Thompson's assertion that the men he left behind had ridden in pursuit of the murderer, seemed rather odd. Or perhaps it was not so odd, looking upon it from another angle. The saloon, when they had ridden up, had been quiet as the well-known grave. It remained equally silent when they entered. McFluke, behind the bar, wearing a black eye and a puffed nose, nodded to them civilly. In chairs ranged round the walls sat an assortment of men--Peaches Austin, Luke Tweezy, Jack Harpe, Doc Coffin, Honey Hoke, and Lanpher. The latter was nursing a slung right arm. They were all there, the men mentioned by name by Thompson as having been in the place when Dale was killed. "What is this, a graveyard meetin'?" asked Racey of McFluke, glancing from the assembled multitude to McFluke and smiling slightly. It was no part of wisdom, thought Racey, to let these men know of his encounter with Thompson. He had Thompson's story. He was anxious to hear theirs. '"A graveyard meeting,'" repeated the saloon-keeper. "Well, and that's what it is in a manner of speaking." Racey stared. "I bite. What's the answer?" The saloon-keeper cleared his throat. "Old Dale's been killed." "Has, huh? Who killed him?" Racey allowed his eyes casually to skim the expressionless faces of the men backed against the walls. "A stranger killed him," replied McFluke, heavily. Racey removed his eyes from the slack-chinned countenance of the saloon-keeper to thin-faced, foxy-nosed Luke Tweezy. Luke's little eyes met his. "You saw this stranger, Luke?" he asked. Luke Tweezy nodded. "We all saw him." "He was playing draw with Honey Hoke and Peaches Austin and me," Doc Coffin offered, oilily. "And the stranger?" amended Racey. "And the stranger," Doc Coffin accepted the amendment. "What was the trouble?" pursued Racey. "Well, we kind of thought"--Doc Coffin's eyes slid round to cross an instant the shifty gaze of Peaches Austin--"we thought maybe this stranger dealt a card from the bottom. We ain't none shore." "Dale said he did, anyhow," said Peaches Austin. "He said so twice," put in Lanpher. Racey turned deliberately. "You here," said he, softly. "I didn't see you at first. I must be getting nearsighted. You saw the whole thing, did you, Lanpher?" "Yeah," replied Lanpher. "Who pulled first?" "The stranger." The answer came patly from at least five different men. Racey looked grimly upon those present. "Most everybody seems shore the stranger's to blame," he observed. "Besides saying the stranger was dealing from the bottom did Dale use any other fighting words?" "He called him a--tinhorn," burst simultaneously from the lips of McFluke and Peaches Austin.