CHAPTER XX
AN INQUEST--AND SOME EXPLANATIONS
The inquest party consisted of the coroner, who was the doctor thathad already attended Allan; Sergeant Grey; six jurors, selected fromthe townspeople; the manager of the bank, whose suspicions had firstbeen communicated to Grey; Travers; and Gardiner. In the earlymorning the policeman had ridden out to the ranch for Gardiner, buthad met him on his way to town. News of the tragedy had reached him,he said, and he was hurrying in to see if he could be of someassistance to Travers, in arranging for a lawyer, or in any way thatmight be practicable. Grey told him that as yet no formal charge hadbeen laid against Travers; that he was merely being held pending thefinding of the coroner's jury, and suggested that if Gardiner wouldaccompany him to the inquest he might be able, not only to throw somelight on Travers' character, but also on his whereabouts on the nightof the tragedy. To this Gardiner readily agreed.
It was noon when the party reached the Arthurses' ranch. Beulahcounted them out with a field-glass while they were still miles downthe valley, and a big table was set in the bunk-house where thecowboys were accommodated during the branding season. It was a matterof course that the men should be fed when they reached Arthurs'. Atintervals in the setting of the table the girl returned to herfield-glass, until she was quite sure of the straight figure ridingbeside the mounted policeman.
They swung into the yard amid a cloud of dust, the jingle oftrappings, and the hearty exchange of greetings between Arthurs andhis acquaintances from town. Gardiner was introduced to Arthurs, andshook hands without removing his gauntlets. He had learned that theparty were to have dinner here, and he excused himself, saying thatthe long ride in the heat had upset him somewhat, and he thought hewould be wiser to be in the shade for an hour or two before eating.Arthurs pressed his hospitality upon him, but as Gardiner seemedfixed in his purpose he did not insist. Then the rancher walked overand shook hands with Travers. There were no signs of handcuffs now,and an outsider would not have known that the young man's positiondiffered from that of the others present.
After the meal Gardiner joined them again, and the party, which nowincluded Arthurs and Harris, proceeded up the valley to the scene ofthe tragedy. It was a great shock to Harris to find that the victimof Allan's gun was his old neighbour, Riles. He stood for a long timeas one dazed by the discovery, but gradually out of the confusion ahorrible fear took shape in his mind. Allan had shot this man, withwhom they had an appointment at this spot; had shot him down, as faras could be shown, without excuse or provocation, before he had somuch as entered the door. The body proved to be unarmed, and from itsposition had evidently fallen into the building after receiving thefatal charge.
The old man turned dry eyes from the gruesome thing across the warm,shimmering valleys. On the farther slopes, leagues distant throughthe clear air, ripening fields of wheat lay on the hillsides likepatches of copper-plate, and farther still thin columns of smokemarked the points where steam-ploughs were wrapping the virginprairie in her first black bridal of commerce. But he saw none ofthese. He saw Allan, and he saw bars, and a prisoner's dock. Andthere was something else that he would not see; he would close hiseyes; he would not let its horrid gaunt ligaments thrust themselvesinto his vision!
After a thorough examination of the scene they laid the body in ademocrat and returned to Arthurs', where the coroner held his courtin the bunk-house.
Harris's evidence was first received. He found it difficult to givehis story connectedly, but item by item he told of his acquaintancewith Riles in the eastern province; of their decision to come westand take up more land; of the chance by which they had fallen withGardiner, and the prospect he had laid before them of more profitablereturns from another form of investment; of how his hesitation hadfinally been overcome by the assurance that all he need do was havehis money ready--he was to be under no obligation to go any furtherin the transaction unless entirely satisfied; of the offer wired bythe New York capitalists; of the sale of his farm for a disappointingsum, and their journey with the money to the old shanty up thevalley, where they were to be met by Riles and Gardiner, and also, asthey expected, by the owner of the mine, with whom they would opendirect negotiations, producing the money as proof of their desire andability to carry out their undertaking; of how they hoped the ownerwould be induced to accept a deposit and accompany them back to town,where an option would be secured from him for a period sufficient toenable them to turn the property over to the New York investors at ahandsome profit; of how he--Harris--wearied by the long ride in thebright, thin air, had gone to sleep confidently with Allan at hisside, and of how he had suddenly been awakened by a shot and hadheard Allan spring to his feet and rush across the floor of the oldbuilding. Then there had been another shot--a revolver shot thistime--and everything was darkness, and he could hear only somethingstruggling at the door. Then he told of his own fight; of how theyhad fallen and rolled about on the rotten floor, and how, indesperation, he had not hesitated to use his teeth on the hand of hisassailant, who had finally broken away and disappeared in thedarkness. Then he told the rest of his story; of his vigil withAllan, of the loss of the money, of the capture of Travers, andfinally of the arrival of the policeman on the scene.
"Didn't it seem to you a foolish thing to go into the hills with allthat money to meet a man you had never seen, and buy a property youhad never examined?" asked the coroner.
"It wasn't foolishness; it was stark, raving madness, as I see itnow," Harris admitted. "But I didn't see it that way then. It lookedlike a lot of easy money. I didn't care what the coal mine waslike--I didn't care whether there was a coal mine at all or not, solong as we made our turn-over to the New York people."
"But did it not occur to you that the whole thing--coal mine and mineowner and New Yorkers and all--was simply a scheme hatched up toinduce you away into the fastnesses of the foothills with a lot ofmoney in your possession?"
A half-bewildered look came over Harris, as of a man gripped by a newand paralyzing thought. But he shook his head. "No, it couldn't havebeen that," he said. "You see, Riles was an old neighbour of mine,and Mr. Gardiner, too, I knew for a good many years. It wasn't likeas if I had been dealing with strangers."
"We will go deeper into that matter after a little," said thecoroner. "It's very fortunate Mr. Gardiner is here to add what lighthe can to the mystery. We will now adjourn to the room where theyounger Mr. Harris lies and hear his evidence. It would be unwise tomove him for some days yet."
They found Allan partly propped up in the white bed. His face waspale, and his hands were astonishingly thin and white, but his mindwas clear, and he could talk without difficulty. He covered much thesame ground as his father had done, up to the point where the elderHarris had fallen asleep in the old building.
"I can't tell you how it happened, Doctor," he said, turning hiseyes, larger now in his pale face, upon the coroner, "but I think Igot very homesick--I guess I was pretty tired, too--and I beganthinking of things that had happened long ago, back when I was alittle child, in a little sod shanty that the old shack in the valleysome way seemed to bring to mind. And then I guess I fell asleep,too, but suddenly I sat up in a great fright. I'm not a coward," hesaid, with a faint smile. "When I'm feeling myself it takes more thana notion or a dark night to send the creeps up the back of my neck.But I own I sat up there so frightened my teeth chattered. I had afeeling that I was going to be attacked--I didn't know by what--maybeby a wild beast--but something was going to rush in through that oldblanket hanging in the door and pounce on me."
The sweat was standing on Allan's face, and he sank back weakly intothe pillows. Beulah placed a glass to his lips, and the doctor toldhim to take his time with his story. The jurors stood about the bedin silence, looking from one to the other with expressions thatsuggested they were almost in the presence of the supernatural. Ifthe black bag with the money had slowly risen out of the floorsomeone would have quietly set it in a corner until Allan was readyto continue his evidence.
br /> "As the minutes went by," Allan continued, after an interval, "thatterrible dread grew upon me, and my sense of danger changed from fearto certainty. Something was going to attack me through that door! Iraised my gun and took careful aim. I saw the blanket swing a little;then I saw the fingers of a man's hand. Then I fired.
"Perhaps I am a murderer," he continued, simply, "but before God Iknow no more why I fired that shot than you do."
There were deep breathing and shuffling of feet as Allan completedthis part of his statement, but only the coroner found his voice."Most remarkable evidence," he ejaculated. "Most extraordinaryevidence. I have never heard anything so obviously sincere and at thesame time so altogether unexplainable."
"Perhaps it's not so unexplainable," said a quiet voice; and MaryHarris made her way through the circle of men to the side of the bed.She sat down on the coverlet and took the boy's hand in hers. Itmattered not how many were looking on; he was her little boy again.
"_You_ will understand, Doctor, and some of you men are parents," shebegan. "Allan will be twenty-five years old this coming winter. Alittle less than twenty-five years ago my husband was obliged toleave me alone for a considerable period in our little sod shanty onthe homestead where we had located down in Manitoba. There were nonear neighbours, as we count distance in well-settled districts, andI was altogether alone, I stood it all right for the first day ortwo, but my nerves were not what they should have been, and graduallya strange, unreasoning fear came upon me. I suppose it was theimmensity of the prairies, the terrible loneliness of it all, and myown state of health, but the dread grew from day to day and fromnight to night. I tried to busy self, to keep my mind active, tothrow off the spectre that haunted me, but day and night I wasoppressed with a sense of impending danger. We had no wooden door onthe house; we hadn't money to buy the boards to make one, and all myprotection was a blanket hung in the doorway. I used to watch thatblanket at night; I would light the lantern and sit in the corner andwatch that blanket. My fear gradually pictured to itself an attackthrough that doorway--I didn't know by what; by white man, or Indian,or wild beast, or ghost, or worse, if that is possible; my mind couldnot balance things; nothing seemed too unreasonable or terrible toexpect. So I took the gun, and sat in the corner, and waited.
"And then at last it came. I didn't see anything, and I didn't hearanything, but I knew it was there. I still remember how frightenedand yet how cool I was in that last moment. I held the gun to myshoulder and waited for _It_ to thrust itself against the blanket. Inanother moment I am sure I should have fired. But before that momentI heard my name called, and I knew my husband's voice, and I came outof the nightmare."
She brought her eyes slowly from the face of the doctor over thegroup of men assembled in the room, and then dropped them to meetAllan's. He was breathing her name softly. "If it was a wrong thingfor Allan to shoot this man," she said, "don't blame Allan for it.Let me pay any price that must be paid."
"Most extraordinary," the coroner repeated, after a silence. "Itseems to account for the shooting of Riles, but it leaves us as muchas ever--more than ever, I should say--in the dark concerning thedisappearance of the money, and the part which has implicated theyoung man Travers in the affair."
The banker gave his evidence. It was not unusual, he said, forconsiderable sums in bank-notes to be handled among speculators andland buyers, but the amount withdrawn by Harris was so great that ithad left him somewhat ill at ease, and as Sergeant Grey had happenedhis way he had mentioned the matter to him.
The policeman shed little new light on the case. He had followed theparty into the hills as best he could, taking the off chance ofsomething sinister afoot. He had found Harris, with his wounded son,and a prisoner, and a man dead in the doorway. He had notified thecoroner and taken Travers in charge. Here his eyes met Beulah's. "Idon't think there is anything more to be said," he concluded.
During the hearing of the various witnesses Gardiner had attempted anair of impersonal interest, but with no great success. His demeanour,studied though it was, betrayed a certain anxiety and impatience. Hewas dressed just as he had dismounted from his horse, having removedonly his hat. But he smiled confidently when asked for his evidence,and told his story calmly and connectedly.
It is quite true that he was associated with Riles and Mr. Harris inthe coal-mine investment. He was acting for the owner of theproperty; but had seen that a large profit was to be made from theturn-over, and had been glad to place the opportunity in the way oftwo old friends. The offer from the New York concern was entirelybona fide; he had the telegram in his pocket at that moment,notwithstanding the suggestion made by the coroner, which, if hemight say so, he thought was hardly warranted, and would not havebeen made with a full knowledge of the circumstances. The owner ofthe mine could be produced at the proper moment, if that becamenecessary.
"I feel a grave responsibility in this whole matter," Gardinerprotested, with some emotion. "I feel that I am, at least indirectly,responsible for the serious loss that has befallen Mr. Harris, andfor the injury to his son. But when you have heard the wholecircumstances you will agree that the situation was one I could notpossibly have foreseen. Let me give them to you in some detail.
"The day before yesterday, in company with Riles, I met Mr. Harrisand his son, and found that their money had arrived. The remittancewas not as large as they expected, but I believed that I could raisesome money privately, and that we would still be able to put the dealthrough. I advised against losing any time, as I knew that if theowner should meet anyone else interested in a proposition of asimilar nature we would find it much harder to make a bargain withhim. It was arranged that the two Mr. Harrises were to drive ahead,taking the money with them, and that Riles and I would follow. Wewere to overtake them at the old building where this unfortunatetragedy occurred. As it happened, I had a sick horse at the ranch,and, as I was delayed in getting some medicine for him, Rilessuggested that he would ride out to the ranch--that is, where Ilive--and wait for me there. Up to that time I had no suspicions, andI agreed to that.
"Well, when I reached the ranch, I could find nothing of Riles, and,on further search, I could find nothing of Travers, who was workingfor me. Their riding horses were gone, and so were their saddles andbridles. I found that Travers had taken his revolver out of thehouse. I confess my suspicions were then somewhat aroused, but Ifound myself with the sick horse on my hands, and I could not verywell leave the place. Of course, I never thought of anything so badas has happened, or I would not have considered the horse, but Iadmit I was at a loss to understand their conduct. But when I heard,early this morning, what had happened, it was all clear to me."
During the latter part of this evidence Travers had fixed his eyes onGardiner, but the witness had steadily avoided him. Jim was nowconvinced that he was the victim, not of a coincidence, but a plot.Of course, he could give his evidence, which would be directlycontradictory to that of Gardiner, but he was already undersuspicion, and anything he might say would be unconsciouslydiscounted by the jurors. But he began calmly, a quiet smile stillplaying about his thin lips and clean teeth. "I am sorry I cannotcorroborate all the last witness has said," he commenced. "I did notleave the ranch with Riles; on the contrary, I was fishing down bythe river when I saw Riles and Gardiner ride by. Gardiner wastalking, and I heard him mention Mr. Harris's name. I worked for Mr.Harris not long ago, but I did not know he was in this part of thecountry. I heard Gardiner say--" Jim coloured a little, and stopped.
"Well, what did you hear him say?" said the coroner. "That is what weare anxious to know."
"I heard him say something about Mr. Harris losing all his money thatnight, in the old shanty up the river road. 'Strange things havehappened up there, Riles,' he said. That made me suspicious, and Ihurried back to the ranch, determined to follow them. I found that myrevolver had been taken. I armed myself as best I could, and set out.When I came near the building which Gardiner had mentioned Idismounted and approached it carefully. It was very dar
k. Suddenly Iwas attacked from behind. A sack was thrown over my head, and I wasoverpowered, and bound. I don't know how long I was kept in thatcondition, but when at last the sack was removed I was in thepresence of Sergeant Grey."
With the progress of Travers' narrative all eyes had turned toGardiner, but, whatever his inward emotions, he outwardly showed nosigns of discomfiture. "This seems to be a day of strange tales," hesaid to the coroner, "and the last we have heard is stranger than thefirst. Of course, it is quite absurd on the face of it. Thesuggestion that I would be a party to robbing Mr. Harris of twentythousand dollars, and so balk a transaction in which I stood to makea profit of more than twice that amount, is too ridiculous fordiscussion. I didn't say so before, because it didn't seem to bear onthe case, but I have at home a telegram which I received a few daysago from the New York investors, offering me a personal commission oftwenty per cent, on the transaction if I was able to get thisproperty for them at the price they had offered. So, from a purelyselfish point of view, you see where my interests lay. But there areother reasons for this fine tale which you have just heard. To sparethe feelings of some present, I intended to say nothing of them, butif I must tell what I know, why, I must tell what I know. This manTravers was a farm hand working for Harris on his farm back inManitoba. Harris is--or was--well-to-do, and Travers accordinglymustered up an attachment for his daughter. This the young lady, itseems, was foolish enough to return. They--"
"That'll do, Gardiner," interrupted Travers, in a quiet, vibrantvoice. "You are getting away from the subject."
"On the contrary, I'm getting close to the subject--a little tooclose for your comfort, it seems."
"I am not investigating any family closets," said the coroner. "Youwill have to show the connection between these matters and theinquiry we are making."
"I will do that in a moment, sir," Gardiner returned. "But I cannotshow the connection until I have shown the events that are connected.Travers had trouble with Harris and had a fight with Allan. Then heand the young lady ran away. They have both been in this part of thecountry for some time. But Travers' plan to inherit the Harrisproperty was upset on account of the girl quarrelling with herparents, and his ardour seems to have cooled off noticeably. But hewas as keen for the property as ever. Riles was a weakling in thehands of a man like Travers, and no doubt he betrayed the fact thatHarris was taking his money with him into the hills. Then the two ofthem framed up the plan which has resulted in the death of one andthe arrest of the other." During these exchanges the sympathies ofthe jurors seemed to veer from side to side. The theories propoundedwere so contradictory that opinions wavered with each sentence ofevidence. But a new bolt was ready for the shooting.
"Mr. Coroner," said Beulah, rising and pointing at Gardiner, "willyou make that man take his gauntlets off?"
There seemed an instant recession of the blood from Gardiner's face.But it was for the instant only. "My hat is off," he said, with asmile. "Is not that sufficient?"
"Make him take them off!" Beulah insisted.
"There is no rule against wearing gauntlets in a coroner's court,"said the coroner. "I do not see the point of your objection."
"Make him take them off," said Beulah.
"As the young lady insists," said the coroner, turning to Gardiner,"I suggest that you comply with her request."
"I should be glad to," said Gardiner, "but the fact is I have a sorehand. When I was giving the horse medicine the night Travers left mealone the brute nipped me a little, and I have been keeping itcovered up since."
"Make him take them off," said Beulah.
"Why should you be so insistent?" said the coroner. "Surely it makesno difference--"
"Only this difference. You have heard my father's evidence of thefight in the old house. The man with whom he fought will havetooth-marks in his hand. Make him take them off. Or if youwon't--look at these hands." She seized Jim's hands in hers and heldthem up before the coroner and the jury. "Any tooth-marks there? Nowmake this other man show his."
For a moment all eyes were on Travers' hands. In that moment Gardinerrushed for the open window, and in another instant would have beenthrough it, had not the quick arm of the policeman intercepted.
"Not so fast, my man," said Grey. "Now we will see this horse-bite ofyours." Gardiner made no further resistance, and he drew the glovefrom his hand. There was a fresh scar on the right thumb.
The coroner examined it carefully. When he spoke it was in the voiceof a judge delivering sentence. "That is not a horse-bite," he said."Those are the marks of human teeth!"
Gardiner smiled a faint smile. "Well, what are you going to do aboutit?" he said.
"We are going to put you in Travers' place and tender him ourapologies," said the coroner.
"Very good," said Gardiner. "And do I marry the girl?"
"This is no time for levity," said the coroner, sternly. "You haveescaped a murder charge only by grace of this young man's excellentconstitution."
But Travers had crowded into the centre of the circle. "Gardiner," hesaid, "if you weren't under arrest I'd thrash you here and now. Butyou can at least do something to square yourself. Where is thatmoney?"
"That's right, Jim. Everyone thinks of what is nearest his heart."
"You scoundrel! You know why it is near my heart. You have robbed Mr.Harris of all that he had spent his whole life for. You will have nochance to use that money yourself. You are sure of your living forthe next twenty years. Why not show that you are not all bad--thatyou have some human sentiments in you? It seems as little as you cando."
"There may be something in what you say," said Gardiner. "I have aslip of paper here with the key to the secret."
He reached with his finger and thumb in his vest pocket and drew outa small folded paper.
This he unfolded very slowly and deliberately before the eyes of theonlookers. It contained a small quantity of white powder. Before anyhand could reach him he had thrown his head back and swallowed it.
"Too late!" he cried, as Grey snatched the empty paper from hisfingers. "Too late! Well, I guess I beat you all out, eh? And, as Isaid before, what are you going to do about it? Twenty years, eh,Jim? You'll be scrawny and rheumatic by that time, and the beautifulBeulah will be fat and figureless. Twenty years for you, Jim, buttwenty minutes for me--and I wouldn't trade with you, damn you! I begthe pardon of the ladies present. One should never forget to be agentleman, even when--when--"
But Gardiner's breath was beginning to come fast, and he raised hishands to his throat. A choking spell seized him, and he would havefallen had not the policeman and the coroner held him on his feet."Let me lie down," he said, when he got his breath. "Let me lie down,can't you? Have I got to die on end, like a murderer?"
They led him to the adjoining room, where he fell upon the bed. Themuscles of his great arms and neck were working in contortions, andhis tongue seemed to fill his mouth.
"Most extraordinary," said the coroner. "Strychnine, doubtless. Wecan't do much for him, I'm afraid. We might try some mustard and hotwater, Mrs. Arthurs."
"Take your time, Lil," whispered Arthurs. "You may save your countrya long board bill." But Lilian Arthurs' abhorrence of Gardiner'sperfidy had been overwhelmed in a wave of sympathy for a sufferingfellow-being. She hurried to the kitchen, while the men of the partyfiled down the stairs and out into the yard. John Harris was the lastto leave the house, and he walked slowly, with bare, bowed head, intothe group who were excitedly discussing the amazing turn events hadtaken. He took no part in their conversation, but stood a littleapart, plunged deep in his own inward struggle.
At last he turned and called his wife in the kitchen door. "BringBeulah," he said.
The two women joined him. At first Harris stood with face averted,but in a moment he spoke in a clear, quiet voice.
"I haven't played the game fair with you two," he said, "and I wantto say so now. Perhaps it would be truer to say that I played thewrong game. Twenty-five years have proved it was the wrong game. No
w,without a penny, I can start just where I started twenty-five yearsago. The only difference is that I am an old man instead of a youngone. I'm going to take another homestead and start again, at theright game, if Mary will start with me."
She put her hand in his, and her eyes were bright again with the fireof youth. "You know there is only one answer, John," she whispered.
Harris called Travers over from the group of men.
"There's one thing more," he continued. "When I started I had only awife to keep, and I don't intend to take any bigger responsibilitynow. Allan will be having a homestead of his own. Jim Travers, I amspeaking to you! I owe you an apology for some things and anexplanation for some things, but I'm going to square the debt withthe only gift I have left."
The light breeze tossed the hair of Beulah's uncovered head, and thelight of love and health glowed in her face and thrilled through thefine symmetry of her figure.
"Take her, Jim," he said.
"She is a godly gift," said the young man reverently.
"You think so now," said her father. "You know nothing about it. Intwenty-five years you will know just how great a gift she is--or shewill not be worthy of her mother."
Harris and his wife were gazing with unseeing eyes into the mountainswhen Arthurs handed them a letter. "It came in the mail which theboys brought out this morning," he said, "and I forgot all about ituntil this minute."
It was from Bradshaw. Harris opened it indifferently, but the firstfew lines aroused his interest, and he read it eagerly to the end.
"My dear Harris," it ran, "on receipt of your telegram I immediatelyopened negotiations through my connections looking to a sale of yourfarm with its crop and equipment, complete as a going concern. Isucceeded in getting an offer of the $40,000 you set on it, and hadall the papers drawn up, when I discovered that among us we had madea serious omission. You will remember that, a good many years ago,when you were taking on some fresh obligations, you transferred thehomestead into your wife's name. I assured the purchaser that therewould be no difficulty about getting title from your wife, but as allthe buildings are on the homestead quarter he would agree to nothingbetter than paying $20,000 for the rest of your land, leaving thehomestead quarter, with the buildings, stock, and implements, out ofthe transaction. As his price seemed a fair one for the balance ofthe property, and as I assumed your need of the money was urgent, Iclosed a deal on that basis, cashed the agreement, and remitted theproceeds to you at once by wire. I trust my actions in the mattermeet with your approval,
"Yours sincerely,
"GEORGE BRADSHAW."
Harris placed the letter in the hands of his wife. She tried to readit, but a great happiness enveloped her as a flood and thetypewritten characters seemed to swim before her. "What does it mean,John?" she asked, noting his restrained excitement. "What does itmean?"
"It means that the homestead quarter was not sold--after all--that itis still yours, with the buildings, and machinery, and stock, andthis year's crop just ready for cutting."
She raised her eyes to his. "Still ours, John, you mean. Still ours."
In the rapid succession of events everyone seemed to have forgotten,or disregarded, Gardiner. But at this moment the doctor came rushingout of the house.
"Gardiner's gone!" he exclaimed, as he came up to the men.
Some of the party removed their hats.
"Oh, not that way--not that way!" exclaimed the doctor. "I mean he'sgone--skipped--beat it, if you understand. Most extraordinary! I wastaking his pulse. It was about normal, and he seemed resting easier,so I slipped downstairs for the antidote. When I went back--I wasonly gone a moment--there wasn't sight or sound of him."
The men stared at each other for a moment; then followed the doctorin a race for Gardiner's room. They found it as he said. There wasneither sight nor sound of Gardiner.
Sergeant Grey conducted a swift examination, not of Gardiner's room,but of the one in which Allan was lying. He was rewarded by findingthe little slip of paper, with a few crystals of powder stillclinging to it. The coroner examined the crystals through hismagnifying-glass; then, somewhat dubiously, raised them on amoistened finger to his tongue, and after a moment's hesitationswallowed in an impressive, scholarly fashion.
"_Saccharum album_!" he exclaimed. "Common white sugar! Mostextraordinary!"
But Sergeant Grey was at the open window. It was only an eight-footdrop to the soft earth, and to the policeman there was no longer anymystery in Gardiner's disappearance. The mock suicide was acarefully-planned ruse to be employed by Gardiner if the worst cameto the worst.
At that moment the sound of horse's hoofs was heard on the gravellyroad, and three hundred yards away Gardiner dashed through a gap inthe trees that skirted the base of the hills. He was on thepoliceman's horse, and riding like wild fire.
"I want all of you men, and a horse for each," said Grey, quickly,turning upon them like a general marshalling his officers. "There area dozen different trails he may fellow, and we must put a man oneach. I will give immediate pursuit, in the hope of riding him downbefore he can throw us off the scent, and I will leave it to you, Mr.Arthurs, to organize the posse and scour the whole country until heis located."
At Grey's first words two men had rushed to the corral, and werealready saddling horses. The first and fastest was placed at thecommand of the policeman, and in a minute he, too, was ridingbreak-neck into the hills. But the delay was enough to give Gardineralmost a mile's lead, and the Government horse was a match for any onthe ranch.
Grey knew that the main road, if followed far enough, dwindled into apack trail, which in turn seemed to lose itself in the fastnesses ofthe mountains, but in reality opened into a pass leading through therange. He gave Gardiner credit for knowing as much, and concludedthat the fugitive would make a bolt straight through the mountains.There was no time to watch for tracks; his chance to ride his mandown depended entirely upon speed. If he miscalculated, and Gardiner,instead of making for the pass, sought refuge in the mountains, theposse would certainly locate him or starve him into surrender. So theofficer urged his horse to the limit and galloped straight into themountain battlements ahead of him.
An hour's hard riding brought him into a tremendously rough country,where the trail at times was nothing more than a narrow defile orledge, and sheer walls of rock rose thousands of feet above, theirgiant edges cutting the blue sky like the teeth of a mighty saw. Farbelow, a ribbon of green and white, the river rolled in its canyon.Here and there a thin stream of water sprayed down the mountain side,cutting a damp, treacherous belt across the trail. But at one suchspot Grey's heart leaped within him, for there, unmistakably clear inthe thin soil and soft rock, were the marks of a horse's shoe, not anhour old. A few minutes later he saw Gardiner swinging round a spurof rock half a mile further up the pass.
The policeman began to watch the moist spots for the tell-talehoof-prints, and invariably their evidence revealed itself. He knewnow that he had guessed Gardiner's course correctly, and it was amatter of minutes until he should ride him down. He wondered whetherthe man was armed or not; it would be an easy trick to hide behind arock and pick the policeman off as he rode by.
Suddenly, at a turn in the path, his eye caught a sight which madehim throw his horse back on his tracks. A sheer precipice fell away athousand feet below him, and beetling cliffs cut off the sky above.Across the path trickled a little stream. And there in the stream, soclear they could not be misread, were the marks cut by a horse's feetsliding over the precipice.
The policeman dismounted carefully. There was scarcely room for himto pass his horse on the narrow ledge. Where the stream had worn itit sloped downwards at an uncomfortable angle. He knelt beside it andtraced the marks of the shoe-calks with his finger. They led over theedge. Eighteen inches down the mountain side was a fresh scar wheresteel had struck a projecting corner of rock.
A thousand feet below the green water slid and swirled in the bed ofthe canyon.
THE END.
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