I 'lowed he was harmless. His name was Storit, and White Collar Dan got his start stealing Storit's diamonds. Ain't it funny the way things comes around—you was after Dan?"
"No, but I feel safer about a friend of mine, now that Dan's dead and buried. Did you notice a bullet wound, an old one"
"Why, that's so! Right side, plumb through. Well, I declare!" The countenance of the sheriff showed his self -disgust. "Theh, I knowed Dan was shot by a lady up around Hickman, and I knowed he'd got out the hospital, and I never placed him. Ain't a man stupid sometimes?"
Urleigh joined Delia at the levee, she having been uptown to purchase some supplies. He told her what the sheriff had declared. They examined the two boats with interest. They looked as though murder might have been done on them—the stains were plainly to be seen.
"It sounds like the Old River," Urleigh commented, as they turned down the river once more.
The dry gale had passed; there had been a hard rain, and once more fair, warm, beautiful sunshine was at hand. The shantyboats were tripping down in midstream; a boat or two in every bend as the river people continued their migration down—ever down!
