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"I doubt it. 'Tough' McCulloch didn't belong to them, as I told you.
He comes from over the border. No; he's getting away as fast as his horse can carry him. And Arizona isn't far off his trail, if I'm any judge."
Fyles's great round face was turned contemplatively on his companion.
"Well, that's for the future, anyhow," he observed, and moved to a bush some yards away. "Let's take it easy. Money, one of my deputies, has gone in for a wagon. I don't expect him for a couple of hours or so. We must keep it company," he added, nodding his head in the direction of the dead man.
They sat down and silently lit their pipes. Fyles was the first to speak.
"Guess I've got to thank you," he said, as though that sort of thing was quite out of his province.
Tresler shook his head. "Not me," he said. "Thank my poor mare." Then he added, with a bitter laugh, "Why, but for the accident of his fall, I'm not sure he wouldn't have escaped. I'm pretty weak-kneed when it comes to dropping a man in cold blood."
The other shook his head.
"No; he wouldn't have escaped. You underestimate yourself. But even if you had missed I had him covered with my carbine. I was watching the whole thing down here. You see, Money and I came on behind. I don't suppose we were more than a few minutes after you. That mare you were riding was a dandy. I see she's done."
"Yes," Tresler said sorrowfully. "And I'm not ashamed to say it's. .h.i.t me hard. She did us a good turn."
"And she owed it to us."
"You mean when she upset everything during the fight?"
"Yes."
"Well, she's more than made amends. In spite of her temper, that mare of mine was the finest thing on the ranch."
"Yours?" Fyles raised his eyebrows.
"Well--Marbolt's."
But the officer shook his head. "Nor Marbolt's. She belonged to me.
Three years ago I turned her out to graze at Whitewater with a bunch of others, as an incorrigible rogue and vagabond. The whole lot were stolen and one of the guard shot. Her name was 'Strike 'em.'"
"Strike 'em?"
"Yes. Ever have her come at you with both front feet, and her mouth open?"
Tresler nodded.
"That's it. 'Strike 'em.' Fine mare--half blood."
"But Marbolt told Jake he bought her from a half-breed outfit."
"Dare say he did."
Fyles relit his pipe for about the twentieth time, which caused Tresler to hand him his pouch.
"Try tobacco," he said, with a smile.
The sheriff accepted the invitation with unruffled composure. The gentle sarcasm pa.s.sed quite unheeded. Probably the man was too intent on the business of the moment, for he went on as though no interruption had occurred.
"After seeing you on that mare I found the ranch interesting. But the man's blindness fooled me right along. I had no trouble in ascertaining that Jake had nothing to do with things. Also I was a.s.sured that none of the 'hands' were playing the game. Anton was the man for me. But soon I discovered that he was not the actual leader.
So far, good. There was only Marbolt left; but he was blind. Last night, when you came for me, and told me what had happened at the ranch, and about the lighted lamp, I tumbled. But even so I still failed to understand all. The man was blind in daylight, and could see in darkness or half-light. Now, what the deuce sort of blind disease is that? And he seems to have kept the secret, acting the blind man at all times. It was clever--devilish clever."
Tresler nodded. "Yes; he fooled us all, even his daughter."
The other shot a quick glance from out of the corners of his eyes.
"I suppose so," he observed, and waited.
They smoked in silence.
"What are you going to do next?" asked Tresler, as the other showed no disposition to speak.
The man shrugged. "Take possession of the ranch. Just keep the hands to run it. The lady had better go into Forks if she has any friends there. You might see to that. I understand that you are--gossip, you know."
"Yes."
"There'll be inquiries and formalities. The property I don't know about. That will be settled by the government."
Tresler became thoughtful. Suddenly he turned to his companion.
"Sheriff," he said earnestly, "I hope you'll spare Miss Marbolt all you can. She has lived a terribly unhappy life with him. I can a.s.sure you she has known nothing of this--nothing of the strange blindness. I would swear it with my last breath."
"I don't doubt you, my boy," the other said heartily. "We owe you too much to doubt you. She shall not be bothered more than can be helped.
But she had some knowledge of that blindness, or she would not have acted as she did with that lamp. I tell you candidly she will have to make a statement."
"Have no doubt; she will explain."
"Sure--ah! I think I hear the wheels of the wagon." Fyles looked round. Then he settled himself down again. "Jake," he went on, "was smartest of us all. I can't believe he was ever told of his patron's curious blindness. He must have discovered it. He was playing a big game. And all for a woman! Well, well."
"No doubt he thought she was worth it," said Tresler, with some asperity.
The officer smiled at the tone. "No doubt, no doubt. Still, he wasn't young. He fooled you when he concurred with your suspicions of Anton--that is, he knew you were off the true scent, and meant keeping you off it. I can understand, too, why you were sent to Willow Bluff.
You knew too much, you were too inquiring. Besides, from your own showing to Jake--which he carried on to the blind man for his own ends--you wanted too much. You had to be got rid of, as others have been got rid of before. Yes, it was all very clever. And he never spared his own stock. Robbed himself by transferring a bunch of steers to these corrals, and, later on, I suppose, letting them drift back to his own pastures. I only wonder why, with a ranch like his, he ran the risk."
"Perhaps it was old-time a.s.sociations. He was a slave-trader once, and no doubt he stocked his ranch originally by raiding the Indians'
cattle. Then, when white people came around, and the Indians disappeared, he continued his depredations on less open lines."
"Ah! slave-trader, was he? Who said?"
"Miss Marbolt innocently told me he once traded in the Indies in 'black ivory.' She did not understand."
"Just so--ah, here is the wagon."
Fyles rose leisurely to his feet. And Money drove up.
"The best of news, sheriff," the latter cried at once. "Captured the lot. Some of the boys are badly damaged, but we've got 'em all."