He might have been a man half starved, and yet there was strength in his bony frame and his eyes were as keen as a serpent's.
"Got in just in time to miss the fun after all," he said coolly.

"Queer game, wasn't it?
I was ahead of you up as far as the water hole.

Saw what happened there." Philip's hand dropped on the butt of his revolver.
"Who are you ?" he asked.
"Me?
I'm Blackstone--Jim Blackstone, from over beyond the elbow.

I guess everybody for fifty miles round here knows me.

And I guess I'm the only one who knows what's happened--and why." He had stepped behind a huge rock that shut out the lower trail from them and Philip followed, his hand still on his revolver.
"They're both dead," added the stranger, signifying with a nod of his head that he meant the outlaws.