Beechworth lay crumpled at their feet.

"I don't suppose there's any gold left on him," Rosser said.

Fulton shrugged and bent down. He gave the corpse a quick pat and straightened up empty-handed.

"Never hurts to make sure."

They were in Beechworth's one room apartment. Whoever killed him was looking for something. The dresser stood empty, its drawers piled beside it and the straw from the mattress covered the floor.

"Think they found anything?"

"They must've."

Rosser and Fulton looked over the room, acknowledging their luck had run out. They turned to leave and heard Beechworth try to say something.

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