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Show CLEAVER. I I : ST RAH AN 1 1 V;?iSti I said. "Get on downstairs, If you know the way, and eat your dinner. I'll look after John." "If you help that boy to escape " "Escape your foot!" I slipped Into John's rcom, shut the door In Sam's face, and pushed the new bolt Into Its slot. JoIid was iylng face down on the bed. 1 went and sat on the bed beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. "Mary?" he questioned. "Yes. There, there now, John dear. Try to brace up " "Yon don't know !" "Yes, I do know, dear. I know just what you know." "My God," he groaned. "It Is certain, cer-tain, then? I still had a little hope. I I enn't keep on with life, not after this. When I think of these last weeks I I'm filthy, I tell you." "John, dear," I tried to comfort. "You didn't know you couldn't. You aren't to blame. You are young " I knew that I had no comfort for agony such as his, but I could not bear to leave him; so 1 stayed, hoping, as I suppose foolish women have always al-ways hoped, that Just plain, quiet loving lov-ing him might help a little. After a minute or two, he said, "Mary If you don't mind, I I've got to fight this out alone." I went to my own room and lay on the bed. I was mortal tired from sorrow, and the hurt in my heart for John was sharp as a neuralgia pain, but my mind went working right along, independent of my feelings ; straight on, like a phonograph, If somebody had started It, might keep right on grinding out a tune while the ship that It was on was sinking. When Miss MacDonald came up, bringing me some dinner, which I couldn't touch, I said to her: "It seems true, but I know that it can't be. It is too impossible. I mean too far fetched." "Not a bit of it," she said. "The only Impossible thing about It is the length of time it has taken us to discover it Of course forgive me, Mrs. Magin, I was almost on the trail once, I had at least started in the right direction, and then you threw me completely off." "II How?" She smiled at me. "Ey seeing something some-thing which you did not see. But you are not in the least to blame for that The fault is all mine." She went and shut my transom. She looked through my clothes closet She looked under my bed, saying, as she did so, "The proverbial practice of old maids, you know." She came and sat close beside me, "Now then . . . " she said. "Listen. Bit by bit it works Into the whole, like a picture puzzle each segment slipping right into place. There Is just one hole in it all, and I think your Danny's kindness and unselfishness un-selfishness will supply that necessary neces-sary bit" She began then to use her own way of saying it to put together the pieces of the puzzle. She was right Bit by bit it fitted together. Almost at once she came to the place that she had called a hole. "There is no hole there," I told her. "Under those circumstances, Danny would have been just sweet, and unselfish, un-selfish, and foolish enough to have done that very thing. She did it That was why she was worried and unhappy, all that day." "I'm sure of it Now then . . She went on: Danny's calling after Gaby that day easy to understand now, of course, and leafing straight to Chad's suicide and confessional note. Gaby's fear; Martha's murder; Sam's ashes on the bag; Gaby's note to Danny; each one fitting right Into place, until spread in front of me was one of the most hideous pictures that any human being has ever been forced to look at In all my experience I have never investigated another murder mur-der case where the thing was so cruelly, vilely premeditated ; so wickedly, wick-edly, cunningly carried out If this Is true, It will be, also, the first time that I have found a really brilliant mind belonging to a fiend." "If it is true I" I echoed. "But it is She shook her head. "We have a seemingly perfect fabric made up, wholly, of circumstantial evidence. As yet, we have nothing else. Now 1 have a question to ask you. It will seem to you that ! should have asked you this at least a week ago. I did not, because I was certain that unless un-less I shared al'l of my suspicions with you, your answer would be exactly ex-actly the answer that you gave me before. Now, thinking as you think, I want a very careful answer to this question." When she had asked it, I refused my first impulse to answer it, at once, and snt thinking carefully for several minutes. The answer that I was forced to give, then, made me sick with shame. "No," I said, "I didn't. I thought honestly, that I did. But now I know that I didn't. That that," I knew I was chattering It, "puts Canneziano's murder right at my door " "Nonsense," she folded one of my trembling hands Into her steady, capable hands. "We can't go poking about iikc that, Into the machinery of fate, and stay sane. The blame In ; this case is entirely for me. But, 1f I had not allowed myself to be misled then, but bad worked straight on. something equally tragic might have happened. We don't know. What we do know is, that no more time must be wasted. "I have spent this past week In trying try-ing to obtain the necessary proof. I have failed. Now, I am going to ask you to help me. Will you?" "I will, and gladly. But you'll have to tell me what you want me to do. I haven't the faintest idea." She told me. "Lands alive!" 1 said. "That ought to be easy." I could see that she was annoyed "I haven't round it so," sue saiu. -r have made three attempts, as many n -I dared make, this week, and ha v.. failed. Do you realize that it mir come simply, and naturally? Vo must realize that " "See here," I interrupted, "why undo un-do as Sam wants you to do? Wh not arrest the criminal now, and fore the proof, afterward? This sort of evidence could be gotten then, as well as now, and a lot safer, too, it seems to me." - "Mrs. Magin," she said, "until we have evidence of guilt we have no criminal to arrest. Incredible as it seems, we might still be wrong concerning con-cerning every bit this. I once made a horrible mistake. It was on my third case that Is, after I began to work for myself. I don't talk about it I can't think about it But 1 made myself a promise then, a promise prom-ise that I have never broken, and which I never will break. Except In extreme necessity, proof, positive, and perfect, must come before any accusation accusa-tion or arrest In a case of mine. Twice, as 1 have said, I have had men arrested because of circumstantial circumstan-tial evidence. Each time the evidence was far stronger than anything we have in this ease. The first time, the man would have undoubtedly escaped es-caped if he had not been put in confinement. con-finement. The second time was on my third case, which I have mentioned. If you force me to make this the third time" "I can't force you to do anything," I reminded her, hoping to cool her down a bit "Yes, you can. If you go at this so clumsily that you give the thing away, and so endanger your own life, I shall have to force matters, I must, of course, risk a reputation I'm not speaking of my own, you understand In preference to risking a life again I am not speaking of my own. But, if we are wrong in this, and remember re-member we may be circumstantinl evidence is the trickiest thing In the world It would be bitterly cruel and wrong. Will you remember that, when you make your first attempt?" "But how shall I do It?" "I am going to leave that to you, and to your natural wit You can do It much more spontaneously if you are not attempting to follow set directions. direc-tions. But do, do bo careful. Don't make a mistake." With that she left me. 1 am ashamed to say that excitement bad made me forget my sorrow. I sat there saying my prayers, planning, and shaking in my shoes, for a good half hour before I could get up enough courage to go downstairs. In all probability, prob-ability, the next hour would bring me face to face with the murderous fiend; and not by the blink of an eye, not by the ghost of a, shiver, must I betray my horrible knowledge. When I finally did get myself downstairs, down-stairs, I found Sam, seemingly alone In the living room, playing solitaire. I Judged, from the look he gave me, and from the way 'he had his shoulders shoul-ders hunched, that he was still In a right ugly humor. "Where's everybody?" I asked. "Out committing murdera, somewhere, some-where, likely. Do you know how much I trust that MacDonald woman?" "No, I don't know. I don't care, either." "Ahk!" Sam barked. "She Is head over heels in love with John, that's a part of what Is the matter with her." I said, "1 wish I thought so." "Why do you wish that, Mary?" It was Danny's voice. Uer white face, with the big, sorrowful eyes, peeked around the high back of a chair near the fireplace. I was too taken aback to answer her. "How long have you been sittini: there, eavesdropping, young lady?" Sam nsLcd.. '.o Oontintod) CHAPTER XV-Continued. , Sam terrupted, his whole body L t'nlnB f"l with his eagerness. T ! US;h0 116 is' and where ho is, I -"'L we 11 hIP J'ou, right enough." V i enn't tell you. Not unless you V mV hnve still another murder on the Desert Mora, ranch. Rut you can Help me. First, by keeping the discovery dis-covery of the poison a secret Second, Sec-ond, by allowing every one else on the Place to suppose that I am still In a "ate of entire bafflement concerning the crime. Third, and most Important, Im-portant, perhaps, by having patience with me." "Ye'a," Sam said, "and while we are sitting around, having patience, this bird will walk off to some green hill far nway. I think the boys are doing do-ing their best to guard the place, but this bird's a slicker. What's to keep him from, say, dressing in mv clothes some night, and riding merrily away V on Bobbie Burns or Wishbone? All P be'd have to do is to give the boys a high-sign and they'd let him ride to b 1, if they thought he was me. An- 1 other thing I -a n't trust all my punchers. Some of them are greasers, I a S0Tne ll!l,f-breefl9. Money, and not If much of it talks pretty loud to some U of those boys." "At present, the person 1 suspect ! has no intention of leaving the place.'' , "When you don't know anything else, how can you know that?" "I didn't say that T didn't know any j thing else." ! "Do you know, and will you tell me. j why you can't put this fellow where the dogs won't bite him, while you ' are collecting the proof, evidence, and so on that you think you need?" "For one reason, because I am not a police detective. Sometimes It is necessary to use their methods of arresting ar-resting each suspect and getting the evidence afterward third degrees, so on. That method, by the way, accounts ac-counts for the number of criminals ; who are able to make complete es- f- capes. It is a stupid, bungling method : f and a brutal one. I detest It. I V 'have used it only twice In the seven years' that I have been in this work. "Nr I used it then because it was neces- sary. I will not use It now, because j it Is not necessary. This case will ' come to the grand jury complete, with 'indisputable proofs. If I had known 1 'suspected I mean, before Mr. Can- neziano was killed, what I now suspect" sus-pect" She stopped short evidently afraid of saying too much. "Ye'a," Sam argued, "but what I can't get, Is how you think you are j ever going to find the proof. I L "Well" she began. "Because," she 4f V ' finished, quite tartly, and walked out J ( of the room. I '"Because,"' Sam mimicked, almost I L before she was out of hearing dis-L dis-L tance "It was a black day for me, and for the Desert Moon, when I put V- this thing up to a "because' woman." I I more than half agreed with him, I but I was not going to let him know ',t "Did you notice," I questioned, " chiefly to turn his mind from the Riiblect of "because" women, "that she V lent saying that she thought the per-j per-j SOn she suspected was on the place? 7 I mean-she didn't say that he was living in the house." i House! H-i: Of course she did." say house. Why should she say house? Haven't we been over and Sver lt? Aren't we fair frazzled out, I every Vast one of us, from climbing ' hunting7 minutes, counting j , nl m1o. nIne to the ba-n and back, i T?nd over Nobody who lives to ' m? hm.se could have done it That this house to unesg ' Se" ne'of u wis Me to be in two To, at tl e same time between four Something clicked ,. k plain ns a W k hnn(,9 0T6r carG? me', th front of my head. I the place the r as ,f j : r:i""-" ""'"s" "No sli-eo. - slll)pose. to no- with his own -,iich must have tice my acU llulrdorer is teen pecu I'"'- " ,10 ,3 skulking still on the l'la It is that i around here - hum etranglcrfel lo. n r(1;lson i T Ii,st d0' o eioan out the Cannez- '!' .he is try.j'S to tlL- m n, bct he T. V iano faraily " the poison to told Martha to ? lt a child I L j : panny. not vlH, Knowing It. V j : Martha was-o, ; ,is0 was l candy, 01 so. et u . . nu polug 'if own hook. Tf 1 tlnd some stranger hiding out on this place, that will be good enough proof for Sam Stanley, and for any jury in Nevada. "Of course, Mary," Sam went on, "it hasn't been so hr.rd on you not having to feel the responsibility the way I have. But I've come to the end of my rope. I'm going to urp my own head, now. I've got to get an expert here, for one thing, to watch and guard over Danny. . . . Say, what's the matter with you, Mary? You look s-o funny. Do you feel sick, or something?" "'Something,'" I paid, "hut. at that. I suppose It isn't near as bud as feeling feel-ing responsibility." If I'd stayed there listening to him for one more minute I'd have burst. I left him, and went running, like the crazy thing I was, up the backstairs back-stairs to my own room. CHAPTER XVi The Puzzle I stayed in my room for half an hour, thinking with all my might that I was thinking. At the end of that time, discovering that I had not turned out one single rational thought, I gave it up and went to find John, John was on the porch, talking to Miss MacDonald. When I got close enough to them to see how he looked, I felt as if my heart would break for him. He looked, In spite of his tan, like death. When I had reached the foot of the steps, both of them, without saying an aye, yes, or no to me, got up and went Into the bonse. - - ' Hy legs wereTshaking under me. I had to go slowly up the steps. Neither John nor Miss MacDonald was In the living room when I got there. I went on Into the kitchen. Miss MacDonald was putting on her big apron. "John knows, doesn't he?" 1 questioned. ques-tioned. "Knows?" "I think that I know what you "Don't 1" she shot out at me, and I wouldn't have jumped any higher If she had shot a gun Instead of a word. "Don't," she calmed down and came over to me and spoke In a whisper, "say anything in here. Not anything." "I've got to," I said. "I'm human. Yon listen to me." I whispered lt, right inU her ear. I hadn't half finished what I had to say before she moved away from me ; but she nodded her head, with those quick, short little nods that always mean confidential agreement. For almost an hour I Tiad "oeen thinking that I knew it That nodding nod-ding of hers made me realize that 1 had only feared it; that I had be- j lieved that she could deny and disprove dis-prove It. I had planned biscuits for dinner. I went and got out the breadboard, and opened the flour bin, but I couldn't do it. "I'm sorry," I said, and to my dls-guest dls-guest 1 began to cry. "I guess you'll have to make out to do alone, for a while. I I'm not feeling well. I'll have to go and lie down " Still blubbering and blind with tears 1 went upstairs, and bumped Into Sam, standing outside John's door. I dried my eyes and saw that he was holding his six-gun, ready for shooting, In his hand. "What Is the matter with you?" I demanded. "What are you doing with that gun?" "John is In there packing his valise. He says he is going to leave the place. I say he is not" "Going to say it with the six-gun, If necessary, ugh?" I asked. "If necessary, Mary. By Q J, he put it up to me, straight He came to me, and said that he had to get off the place for a while. Had to. I baited him along. Asked him where he wanted to go. He didn't even try to hide his feelings. Didn't bother to ; make up an excuse. Said lt was all ! the same to him where he went. I When I reckoned he'd stay right here, 1 he up itli the idea of going down to live with the oniflt. lie's a fool; so he thinks that I am. Thinks I don't know he could get a good horse, the first nidu " "If John thinks you're a fool," I said, "he's paying you too much respect re-spect I enn't think of anything ranch wor.ao, or more dangerous than a fool, hut whatever It Is, you are It It turns me all over to look at you (live me that gun." I reached out and took it Ills fin-i;ers fin-i;ers didn't stick to it very long. 1 judged thai he was not quite as eager id shoot John on sight as he had been pretending to he. "vmv yourself nway f-ora here,' j Ml "TBrr-nir'" i ' : f "If It Is True!" I Echoed. "But It is Proven." rroven. You have just proven it all to me." |