As her house was filled with transients, including occasional visitors from Carson City, and was also lounging headquarters for many of the officers from the near-by fort, she experienced no difficulty in picking up all the floating rumors.

Out of these, with Irish shrewdness, she soon managed to patch together a consistent fabric of fact.
"Shure, honey, it's not so bad the way they tell it now," she explained, consolingly.

"Nobody belaves now it was yer father that got kilt.

It was two fellers what stole his outfit, clothes an' all, an' was drivin' off wid 'em inter the sand hills.

Divil a wan does know who kilt 'em, but there's some ugly stories travellin' about.