That portion of Crowheart which was pleased to speak of itself as the "sane and conservative element" endeavored to suspend sentence until the deputy-sheriff should return with further details, but even they were forced to admit that, from the meagre account furnished by Dr. Harpe, "it certainly looked bad for Essie Tisdale." Dan Treu and the coroner, who was also the local baker, started immediately for the sheep-ranch, and Dr. Harpe accompanied them. "Ess looked about 'all in,'" she said in explanation. They found the girl and the Dago Duke waiting by the fire which he had built outside the cabin. Huddled in a blanket which he had thrown about her shoulders she sat staring into the fire with the shocked look which never left her eyes. Utter, utter weariness was in her flower-like face and over and over again her subconsciousness was asking her tired brain, "What next? What horrible thing can happen to me next? What is there left to happen?" She felt crushed in spirit, unresentful even of Dr. Harpe's presence, for she felt herself at the mercy of whosoever chose to be merciless. But the Dago Duke was unhampered by any such feelings. He commented loudly as Dr. Harpe swaggered toward them with her hands thrust deep in the pockets of the man's overcoat which she wore on chilly drives-- "The ghouls are arriving early." "There's another word as ugly," Dr. Harpe retorted significantly. "I can't imagine--unless it's quack." "Or accomplice," she suggested with a sneer. Dan Treu frowned. With the surprising tact and gentleness which blunt men of his type sometimes show, the deputy-sheriff drew from the girl her story of the murder. "I went to the creek--down the trail there--to get some water. I was only gone a moment; I was bending down--dipping with the pail--I heard two shots--close together. I thought he was shooting at prairie dogs--I did not hurry. When I came back--he was lying near the wagon. It was horrible! I called and called. He was dead. The blood was running everywhere. I got a quilt and dragged and dragged until I got him on it somehow. I saw no one. I heard no one." Her slender hands were clenched tightly and she spoke with an effort. There was silence when she finished, for her story seemed complete; there seemed nothing more that she could tell. It was Dr. Harpe who asked-- "But his gun--where's his gun? He's always kept a gun--I've seen it--a Colt's automatic?" The girl shook her head. "I don't know." "And, Doctor,"--it was the Dago Duke's suave voice that asked the question--"you saw no one--passed no one while driving through the hills?" She looked at him steadily. "I saw no one." His eyelids slowly veiled his eyes. "Why do you ask that?" His faint smile irritated her. "Don't you suppose I would have said so long before this?" "Let's look for that gun," the deputy interrupted. "He had a gun--I'm sure of that; every sheepman packs a gun."