CHAPTER XXXIII
OLSON TELLS A STORY
When Rose heard from Esther next day she and Kirby took the Interurbanfor Golden. Esther had written that she wanted to see her sisterbecause Cole was going to take her back to Wyoming at once.
The sisters wept in each other's arms and then passed together intoEsther's bedroom for an intimate talk. The younger sister was stillhappy only in moments of forgetfulness, though she had been rescuedfrom death in life. Cole had found her comfortably situated at afarmhouse a mile or two back from the canon. She had gone there underthe urge of her need, at the instigation of James Cunningham, who couldnot afford to have the scandal of his relations with her become publicat the same time as the announcement of his marriage to PhyllisHarriman. The girl loved Cole and trusted him. Her heart went out tohim in a warm glow of gratitude. But the shadow of her fault was abarrier in her mind between them, and would be long after his kindnesshad melted the ice in her bosom.
"We've got it all fixed up to tell how we was married when I come downto Denver last April only we kep' it quiet because she wanted to holdher job awhile," Cole explained to his friend. "Onct I get her backthere in God's hills she'll sure enough forget all about this trouble.The way I look at it she was jus' like a li'l' kid that takes amis-step in the dark an' falls an' hurts itself. You know how awounded deer can look at a fellow so sorrowful an' hurt. Well, that'show her brown eyes looked at me when I come round the corner o' thehouse up Platte Canon an' seen her sittin' there starin' at hell."
Kirby shook hands with him in a sudden stress of emotion. "You'll doto take along, old alkali, you sure enough will."
"Oh, shucks!" retorted Cole, between disgust and embarrassment. "Ialways claimed to be a white man, didn't I? You can't give a fellowcredit for doin' the thing he'd rather do than anything else. But proda peg in this. I'm gonna make that li'l' girl plumb happy. She thinksshe won't be, that she's lost the right to be. She's 'way off, I cansee her perkin' up already. I got a real honest-to-God laugh outa herthis mo'nin'."
Kirby knew the patience, the steadiness, and the kindliness of hisfriend. Esther had fallen into the best of hands. She would findagain the joy of life. He had no doubt of that. Gayety and laughterwere of her heritage.
He said as much to Rose on the way home. She agreed. For the firsttime since she left Cheyenne the girl was her old self. Esther'sproblem had been solved far more happily than she had dared to hope.
"I'm goin' to have a gay time apologizin' to Jack," said Kirby, hiseyes dancing. "It's not so blamed funny at that, but I can't helplaughin' every time I think of how he must 'a' been grinnin' up hissleeve at me for my fool mistake. I'll say he brought it on himself,though. He was feelin' guilty on his brother's account, an' I didn'tget his embarrassment right. James is a pretty cool customer. Fromfirst to last he never turned a hair when the subject was mentioned."
"What about him?" Rose asked.
The cattleman pretended alarm. "Now, don't you," he remonstrated."Don't you expect me to manhandle James, too. I'm like Napoleon.Another victory like the battle of last night would sure put me in thehospital. I'm a peaceable citizen, a poor, lone cowboy far away fromhome. Where I come from it's as quiet as a peace conference. Thiswildest-Denver stuff gets my nerve."
She smiled into his battered face. A dimple nestled in her soft, warmcheek. "I see it does. It's a pity about you. I didn't suppose yourcousin Jack had it in him to spoil your beauty like that."
"Neither did I," he said, answering her smile. "I sure picked on thewrong man. He's one handy lad with his dibs--put me down twice beforewe decided to call it off. I like that young fellow."
"Better not like him too much. You may have to work against him yet."
"True enough," he admitted, falling grave again. "As to James, we'llride close herd on him for a while, but we'll ride wide. Looks to melike he may have to face a jury an' fight for his life right soon."
"Do you think he killed your uncle?"
"I don't want to think so. He's a bad egg, I'm afraid. But myfather's sister was his mother. I'd hate to have to believe it."
"But in your heart you do believe it," she said gently.
He looked at her. "I'm afraid so. But that's a long way from knowingit."
They parted at her boarding-house.
A man rose to meet Kirby when he stepped into the rotunda of his hotel.He was a gaunt, broad-shouldered man with ragged eyebrows.
"Well, I came," he said, and his voice was harsh.
"Glad to see you, Mr. Olson. Come up to my room. We can talk theremore freely."
The Scandinavian rancher followed him to the elevator and from there tohis room.
"Why don't they arrest Hull?" he demanded as soon as the door wasclosed.
"Not evidence enough."
"Suppose I can give evidence. Say I practically saw Hull do it. Wouldthey arrest him--or me?"
"They'd arrest him," Kirby answered. "They don't know you're the manwho wrote the threatening letter."
"Hmp!" grunted the rancher suspiciously. "That's what _you_ say, butyou're not the whole works."
Kirby offered a chair and a cigar. He sat down on the bed himself."Better spill your story to me, Olson. Two heads are better than one,"he said carelessly.
The Swede's sullen eyes bored into him. Before that frank and engagingsmile his doubts lost force. "I got to take a chance. Might as wellbe with you as any one."
The Wyoming man struck a match, held it for the use of his guest, thenlit his own cigar. For a few moments they smoked in silence. Kirbyleaned back easily against the head of the bed. He did not intend tofrighten the rancher by hurrying him.
"When Cunningham worked that crooked irrigation scheme of his on DryValley, I reckon I was one of them that hollered the loudest. Prob'lyI talked foolish about what all I was gonna do about it. I wasn'tblowin' off hot air either. If I'd got a good chance at him, or atHull either, I would surely have called for a showdown an' gunned himif I could. But that wasn't what I came to Denver for. I had toarrange about gettin' my mortgage renewed."
He stopped and took a nervous puff or two at the cigar. Kirby noddedin a friendly fashion without speaking. He did not want by anything hemight say to divert the man's mind from the track it was following.
"I took a room at the Wyndham because the place had been recommended tome by a neighbor of mine who knew the landlady. When I went there Ididn't know that either Cunningham or Hull lived next door. That's aGod's truth. I didn't. Well, I saw Hull go in there the very day Igot to town, but the first I knew yore uncle lived there was ten ormaybe fifteen minutes before he was killed. I wouldn't say but what itwas twenty minutes, come to that. I wasn't payin' no attention totime."
Olson's eyes challenged those of his host. His suspicion was stillsmoldering. An unhappy remark, a look of distrust, might still havedried up the stream of his story. But he found in that steady regardnothing more damnatory than a keen, boyish interest.
"Maybe you recollect how hot those days were. Well, in my cheap,stuffy room, openin' on an air-shaft, it was hotter 'n hell with thelid on. When I couldn't stand it any longer, I went out into thecorridor an' down it to the fire escape outside the window. It was alot cooler there. I lit a stogie an' sat on the railin' smokin', maybefor a quarter of an hour. By-an'-by some one come into the apartmentright acrost the alley from me. I could see the lights come on. Itwas a man. I saw him step into what must be the bedroom. He movedaround there some. I couldn't tell what he was doin' because he didn'tswitch on the light, but he must 'a' been changin' to his easy coat an'his slippers. I know that because he came into the room just oppositethe fire escape where I was sittin' on the rail. He threw on thelights, an' I saw him plain. It was Cunningham, the old crook who hadbeat me outa fifteen hundred dollars."
Kirby smoked steadily, evenly. Not a flicker of the eyelids showed theexcitement racing through his blood. At last he was coming close tothe heart
of the mystery that surrounded the deaths of his uncle andhis valet.
"I reckon I saw red for a minute," Olson continued. "If I'd beencarryin' a gun I might 'a' used it right there an' then. But I hadn'tone, lucky for me. He sat down in a big easy-chair an' took a paperfrom his pocket. It looked like some kind of a legal document. Heread it through, then stuck it in one o' the cubby-holes of his desk.I forgot to say he was smokin', an' not a stogie like I was, but a bigcigar he'd unwrapped from silver paper after takin' it from a boxful."
"He lighted the cigar after coming into the small room," Kirby said, inthe voice of a question.
"Yes. Didn't I say so? Took it from a box on a stand near the chair.Well, when he got through with the paper he leaned back an' kinda shuthis eyes like he was thinkin' somethin' over. All of a sudden I sawhim straighten up an' get rigid. Before he could rise from the chair awoman came into the room an' after her a man.
"The man was Cass Hull."