CHAPTER XXIX

  "COME CLEAN, JACK"

  Jack Cunningham, co-heir with James of his uncle's estate, was busy inthe office he had inherited settling up one of the hundred details thathad been left at loose ends by the promoter's sudden death. He lookedup at the entrance of Lane.

  "What do you want?" he asked sharply.

  "Want a talk with you."

  "Well, I don't care to talk with you. What are you doing here anyhow.I told the boy to tell you I was too busy to see you."

  "That's what he said." Kirby opened his slow, whimsical smile on Jack."But I'm right busy, too. So I brushed him aside an' walked in."

  In dealing with this forceful cousin of his, Jack had long since losthis indolent insolence of manner. "You can walk out again, then. I'llnot talk," he snapped.

  Kirby drew up a chair and seated himself. "When Uncle James sent amessenger for you to come to his rooms at once on the evening of thetwenty-first, what did he want to tell you?" The steady eyes of thecattleman bored straight into those of Cunningham.

  "Who said he sent a messenger for me?"

  "It doesn't matter who just now. There are two witnesses. What did hewant?"

  "That's my business."

  "So you say. I'm beginnin' to wonder if it isn't the business of theState of Colorado, too."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that Uncle sent for you because he had just found out yourbrother and Miss Harriman were married."

  Jack flashed a startled look at him. It seemed to him his cousinshowed an uncanny knowledge at times. "You think so."

  "He wanted to tell you that he was goin' to cut your brother out of hiswill an' leave you sole heir. An' he wanted you to let James know itright away."

  Kirby was guessing, but he judged he had scored. Jack got up and beganto pace the room. He was plainly agitated.

  "Look here. Why don't you go back to Wyoming and mind your ownbusiness? You're not in this. It's none of your affair. What are youstaying here for hounding the life out of James and me?"

  "None of my business! That's good, Jack. An' me out on bond chargedwith the murder of Uncle James. I'd say it was quite some of mybusiness. I'm gonna stick to the job. Make up your mind to that."

  "Then leave us alone," retorted Jack irritably. "You act as though youthought we were a pair of murderers."

  "If you have nothin' to conceal, why do you block anyway? Why aren'tyou frank an' open? Why did you steal that record at Golden? Why didJames lose the Jap's confession--if it was a confession? Why did heget Miss McLean to disappear? Answer those questions to mysatisfaction before you talk about me buttin' in with suspicionsagainst you."

  Jack slammed a fist down on the corner of the desk. "I'm not going toanswer any questions! I'll say you've got a nerve! You're the mancharged with this crime--the man that's liable to be tried for it.You've got a rope round your neck right this minute--and you go aroundhigh and mighty trying to throw suspicion on men that there's noevidence against."

  "You said you had a quarrel with your uncle that night--no, I believeyou called it a difference of opinion, at the inquest. What was thatdisagreement about?"

  "Find out! I'll never tell you."

  "Was it because you tried to defend James to him--tried to get him toforgive the treachery of his fiancee and his nephew?"

  Again Jack shot at him a look of perplexed and baffled wonder. Thatbrown, indomitable face, back of which was so much strength of purposeand so much keenness of apprehension, began to fill him with alarm.This man let no obstacles stop him. He would go on till he haduncovered the whole tangle they were trying to keep hidden.

  "For God's sake, man, stop this snooping around! You'll get off.We'll back you. There's nowhere nearly enough evidence to convict you.Let it go at that," implored Jack.

  "I can't do that. I've got to clear my name. Do you think I'm willin'to go back to my friends with a Scotch verdict hangin' over me? 'Hedid it, but we haven't evidence enough to prove it.' Come clean, Jack!Are you and James in this thing? Is that why you want me to drop myinvestigations?"

  "No, of course we're not! But--damn it, do you think we want the nameof my brother's wife dragged through the mud?"

  "Why should it be dragged through the mud--if you're all innocent?"

  "Because gossips cackle--and people never forget. If there was someevidence against her and against James--no matter how little--twentyyears from now people would still whisper that they had killed hisuncle for the fortune, though it couldn't be proved. You know that."

  "Just as they're goin' to whisper about Rose McLean if I don't clearthings up. No, Jack. You've got the wrong idea. What we want to dois for us all to jump in an' find the man who did it. Then all gossipagainst us stops."

  "That's easy to say. How're you going to find the guilty man?" askedJack sulkily.

  "If you'd tell what you know we'd find him fast enough. How can I getto the bottom of the thing when you an' James won't give me the facts?"

  Jack looked across at him doggedly. "I've told all I'm going to tell."

  The long, lithe body of the man from the Wyoming hills leaned forwardever so slightly. "Don't you think it! Don't you think it for aminute! You'll come clean whether you want to or not--or I'll put thatrope you mentioned round your brother's throat."

  Jack looked at this man with the nerves of chilled steel and shivered.What could he do against a single-track mind with such driving forceback of it? Had Kirby got anything of importance on James? Or was hebluffing?

  "Talk 's cheap," he sneered uneasily.

  "You'll find how cheap it is. James had been speculatin'. He was downan' out. Another week, an' he'd have been a bankrupt. Uncle discovershow he's been tricked by him an' Miss Harriman. He serves notice thathe's cuttin' James out of his will an' he sends for a lawyer to draw upa new one. James an' his wife go to the old man's rooms to beg off.There's a quarrel, maybe. Anyhow, this point sticks up like a sorethumb: if uncle hadn't died that night your brother would 'a' been abeggar. Now he's a millionaire. And James was in his room the veryhour in which he was killed."

  "You can't prove that!" Jack cried, his voice low and hoarse. "How doyou know he was there? What evidence have you?"

  Kirby smiled, easily and confidently. "The evidence will be producedat the right time." He rose and turned to go.

  Jack also got up, white to the lips. "Hold on! Don't--don't doanything in a hurry! I'll--talk with you to-morrow--here--in theforenoon. Or say in a day or two. I'll let you know then."

  His cousin nodded grimly.

  The hard look passed from his eyes as he reached the corridor. "Had tothrow a scare into him to make him come through," he murmured inapology to himself.