He had said nothing to his companion regarding the tracks, though he noted the other saw them also, and was studying them, puzzled.
"Them tracks ain't more'n half a dozen hours old," the man said once, tentatively.

But receiving no answer from Warden he said no more.
In places there were three sets of tracks--two going northward, and one leading back.

Warden, his eyes glowing malevolently, followed them until they took him into Willets.

An hour later, his face flushed with passion, he was in a little office with Sheriff Moreton, demanding Lawler's arrest on a charge of murder.
Moreton, a slender man of medium height with a lean, strong face and keen, penetrating eyes, had listened patiently to Warden's story.
"Lawler told you he killed 'em, eh?
Well then, I reckon he must have--Lawler ain't in the habit of lyin'.

You got any witness that Lawler killed 'em, malicious?
You've just got done hintin' that Lawler said he shot 'em in self-defense.