Some Buried Caesar

"No. It's sudden and terrible death. Technically it's a disease, of course, but it's so swift and deadly that it's more like a snake or a stroke of lightning." The stockman snapped his fingers. "Like that."

Wolfe nodded. "I knew of it, vaguely, in my boyhood in Europe. But wasn't Caesar healthy this morning? When did you observe symptoms?"

"With anthrax you don't observe symptoms. Not often. You go to the pasture in the morning and find dead cattle. That's what happened at my place a month ago. It's what happened with Caesar at 5 o'clock this afternoon. One of Sam Lake's deputies went down to the far end of the pasture, where I had him tied behind a clump of birch, and found him keeled over dead. I had gone to Crowfield to see Lew Bennett. They phoned me and I came back out, and Pratt and I decided to come over here."

Osgood's scowl had got adulterated some more. I didn't know then that the sound of the word "anthrax," with the news that it had struck within a mile of his own herd, was enough to adulterate any man's scowl, no matter what had happened to him. Wolfe turned and said brusquely:

"Mr. Pratt. I'd like to buy the bull's carcass. What will you take for it?"

I stared at him, wondering if whatever had jolted him had thrown him off balance. Pratt stared too.

Osgood blurted, "You can't buy an anthrax carcass. The state takes it."

Pratt demanded, "What in the name of God do you want it for?"

McMillan said sourly, "They're already there. A member of the State Board was at Crowfield, and he got there as soon as I did, with a dozen men. Why, what did you expect to do with it?"

Wolfe sighed. "I suppose Mr. Waddell has told you of my demonstration of the fact that Clyde Osgood wasn't killed by the bull. The absence of blood on his face. I wanted the hide. Juries like visual evidence. What is the member of die State Board doing with his men? Carting it away?"

"No. You don't cart it away. You don't want the hide either. You don't touch it, because it's dangerous. You don't bury it, because the spores live in the soil for years. You don't even go close to it. What the state men are doing is collecting wood to pile it around the carcass for a fire." Mc- Millan slowly shook his head. "He'll bum all night, Caesar will."

"How did he get it? I understand you delivered him to Mr. Pratt last Friday. Did he bring it with him from your place?"