Doc says he won't go. Says we gotta be legal. I say we can
save the sheriff here some time and trouble."
"Hold on, Mister Hawk. Let's take it slow. We ain't got a
lick of proof that Ward was murdered. Besides, I don't figure
Ned's been studying shooting anybody."
"Well, what about the squirrel in Ward's pocket?"
"The squirrel? What makes you so certain that squirrel-"
"I figgered it out, Jodie! All y'all say I'm losing my mind,
but I still got it! I woulda know'd yesterday things wasn't
right, if I'd 've been thinking. But I reckon I plain wasn't
thinking. You recollect Ward's two dogs tore that squirrel to
pieces?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, Jodie, when we all walked past where them hounds had
been a-fightin', I seen drops of blood had dripped on the sand.
We was all talkin', and I didn't pay it no mind till last night
when I kinda got my wits together. Then it struck me! That
squirrel was fresh killed! Jodie, Ward didn't shoot it Sunday
evenin'! That thing would've been froze stiff as a fire poker-its
blood too! So, all I had to do was find out who shot a squirrel
early Monday mornin' and slipped it in Ward's pocket!"
"But, Mister Hawk, you can't-"
"Lemme finish tellin' you.
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