By the time they rode up to the jail, the doctor was leaving the building, tsking and shaking his head, and four men were entering, three of them carrying a board.
“I wonder who they are,” Steve murmured.
“That’s Mr. Gainforth,” Sharps told him. “Don’t know about the others, but I met him when the town council spoke to Mrs. Fox about becoming the schoolmarm. He’s the undertaker.”
“In that case, I reckon it’s safe to say Weatherford is no longer among the living.”
“I reckon it is. I hope the sheriff isn’t too busy to give us our guns back.” He took a step forward, then stopped. “You’d better go in first. The sheriff might wonder about me going in ahead of you.”
Steve studied him for a moment. Sharps met his gaze, and there was something in it…” All right.” He walked into the jail, know
