10. ROMANO’S LUCKY BREAK
The young sheriff stood for a moment, staring across the lake at the last flickering of white on Genoa Peak. He removed his two-gallon hat, as though to give his mind a better chance.
“Trouble,” he said, “a clue? I ain’t gettin’ it, Inspector.”
Charlie shrugged. “Nevertheless,” he replied, “such statement is based on facts equally well known to you.”
Don Holt restored his hat. “Ain’t any use, I reckon,” he remarked. “You jes’ go your way, an’ I’ll go mine, an’ when you get to the top of the hill, drop a rope for me. By the way, when the coroner finishes, maybe you’d like to have a talk with him?”
“Very much indeed.”
“Can you run a motor-boat?”
“Sometimes I have been permitted to drive the one belonging to my son, Henry—as a generous recognition of the fact t
