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“Who’s excited?” cried MacMaster. “You have to be emphatic wi’ a policeman, Mother. You have to talk his language.”

The Chief considered. In spite of himself, he was impressed by the obvious honesty of the old man. He had planned to bully him out of his testimony, but something told him such tactics would be useless. Hang it all, he reflected, Tarneverro did have an alibi, and a good one.

“You second what your husband says, madam?” he inquired.

“Every word of it,” the old lady nodded.

The Chief made a helpless gesture, and turned toward MacMaster. “All right,” he remarked. “You win.”

Charlie stepped forward. “May I have honor to address few remarks to these good friends of mine?” he inquired.

“Sure. Go ahead, Charlie,” replied the Chief wearily.

“I make simple inquiry,” Chan continued gently. “Mr. Tarneverro was young man starting career when he visited your ranch, I believe?”

“He was that,” agreed MacMaster.

“An actor on theatrical stage?”

“Aye—and not a very successful one. He was glad of the work wi’ us.”

“Tarneverro very odd name. Was that what he called himself when he worked with you?”

The old man glanced quickly at his wife. “No, it was not,” he said.

“What name did he offer at that time?”

MacMaster’s jaw shut hard, and he said nothing.