"You ain't far off, Pete.

I done some thinkin' along them lines when I seen him standin' up there over the arroyo wavin' his hat at the bullets.

Vic didn't never have the guts for that." All the lower valley was gray, dark in comparison with the bright peaks above it, before the sheriff rose from his place and led the posse towards the body of Grey Molly.

There they found as much confirmation of Pete's theory as they needed, for Vic's silver-mounted saddle was known to all of them, and this was a plain affair which they found on the dead horse.

Waldron pushed back his hat to scratch his head.
"Look at them eyes, boys," he suggested.