A blood-stained bandage wrapped Paw's head turbanwise, and his little, deep-set eyes gleamed wickedly in his pallid face.

Casey looked for Hank, but he was not there.
A strange man was cooking supper, and Casey wanted to tell him that he was slicing the bacon twice as thick as it should be.

The corpulent man, whom he dimly remembered as a coroner, was talking with a big, burly individual whom Casey guessed was the sheriff.

A man came in and announced to the big man that the car was fixed and they could go any time.

Mart, who had been staring morosely down at his shackled wrists, lifted his head and spoke to the sheriff.
"You'll have to do something about my mother," he said, and bit his lip at the manner in which every head swung his way.
"What about your mother ?" the sheriff asked moving toward him.