Can't say.

All I know is he said somethin' about goin' to th' mine earlier in th' afternoon, an' long about five I seen him starting up Kentucky Gulch." "Who 's that ?" The interruption had come in a sharp, yet gruff voice.
Fairchild turned to see before him a man he recognized, a tall, thin, wiry figure, with narrowed, slanting eyes, and a scar that went straight up his forehead.

He evidently had just rounded the corner in time to hear the conversation.

Fairchild straightened, and in spite of himself his voice was strained and hard.
"I was merely asking about my partner in the Blue Poppy mine." "The Blue Poppy ?" the squint eyes narrowed more than ever.

"You 're Fairchild, ain't you?
Well, I guess you 're going to have to get along without a partner from now on." "Get along without-- ?" A crooked smile came to the other man's lips.
"That is, unless you want to work with a dead man.