Moreton looked keenly at his visitor. "You're back, eh?" he said,
shortly.
"Back to perform a solemn duty, Moreton," said Warden. "I have the
evidence I spoke to you about. It's too bad, but we are all bound to see
that justice is done. I don't like to take this step, for Lawler is a
distinguished citizen despite some mighty bad habits, and I don't like
to be the one to charge him with that crime."
"Uh-huh," grunted Moreton; "I can see that you're about ready to break
down an' bawl right out in meetin'. But I wouldn't do no more
fourflushin' in here--it ain't healthy. Where's your evidence?"
Warden laid Della Wharton's written statement on the desk at the
sheriff's hand. He watched while Moreton read; he saw Moreton's face
whiten; saw his hand tremble a little as he folded the paper and put it
into a pocket.
Then he looked straight at Warden.
"I don't believe a damned word of it, Warden!" he said, his eyes
blazing. "If that woman was in that cabin with Lawler durin' the storm
she kept it mighty quiet. An' Lawler didn't say a word about it when I
rode over to see him a couple of months ago!" He glared at Warden.
"Where's that Wharton woman, now?"
"She'll get to town this afternoon," Warden said.
"Well, she'll have to swear to this, Warden.
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