"I think Overton left camp after supper--started for the lake," answered some one.
"Well, we'll do our best to get it straight without him, then. Some of you see what time it is. This man has been dead about a half hour. Mr. Lyster, you had better write down all about it; and, if any one here has any information to give, let him have it."
His eyes were on the girl's face, but she said nothing, and he bent to wipe off the stain from the dead man's face. Some one brought water, and in a little while was revealed the decidedly handsome face of a man about forty-five years old.
"Do any of you know him?" asked the miner, who, by circumstance, appeared to have been given the office of speaker--"look--all of you."
One after another the men approached, but shook their heads; until an old miner, gray-haired and weather-beaten, gave vent to a half-smothered oath at sight of him.
"Know him?" he exclaimed. "Well, I do, though it's five years since I saw him. Heavens! I'd rather have found him alive than dead, though, for there is a standing reward offered for him by two States. Why, it's the card-sharper, horse-thief and renegade--Lee Holly!"
"That is Overton's knife," said one of the men.
"But Overton had not had it since noon," said 'Tana, speaking for the first time in explanation. "I borrowed it then."
"Oh--I forget. To cut a stick with, I think."
"You think. I'm sorry to speak rough to a lady, miss but this is a time for knowing--not thinking."
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Lyster.
"Nothing to offend innocent folks," he answered. "A murder has been done in this lady's room, with a knife she acknowledges she has had possession of. It's natural enough to question her first of all."
The color had crept into her face once more. She knew what the man meant, and knew that the longer they looked on her with suspicion, the more time Overton would have to escape. Then, when they learned they were on a false scent, it would be late--too late to start after him. She wished he had taken the money and the gold. She shuddered as she thought him a murderer--the murderer of that man; but, with what skill she could, she would keep them off his track.
Her thoughts ran fast, and a half smile touched her lips. Even with that dead body at her feet, she was almost happy at the hope of saving him. The others noticed it, and looked at her in wonder. Lyster said: