There
were smaller stains above and below; none beyond it to left or right; and
there were deep boot-prints in the sand. Men were examining the place
excitedly, talking and gesticulating. It was Lige Willetts who had found
it. His horse was tethered to a fence near by, at the end of a lane
through a cornfield. Jared Wiley, the deputy, was talking to a group near
the stain, explaining.
"You see them two must have knowed about the one-o'clock freight, and that
it was to stop here to take on the empty lumber cars. I don't know how
they knowed it, but they did. It was this way: when they dropped from the
window, they beat through the storm, straight for this side-track. At the
same time Mr. Harkless leaves Briscoes' goin' west. It begins to rain. He
cuts across to the railroad to have a sure footing, and strikin' for the
deepo for shelter--near place as any except Briscoes' where he'd said
good-night already and prob'ly don't wish to go back, 'fear of givin'
trouble or keepin' 'em up--anybody can understand that. He comes along,
and gets to where we are precisely at the time _they_ do, them comin' from
town, him strikin' for it. They run right into each other. That's what
happened. They re-_cog_-nized him and raised up on him and let him have
it. What they done it with, I don't know; we took everything in that line
off of 'em; prob'ly used railroad iron; and what they done with him
afterwards we don't know; but we will by night.
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