CHAPTER XV
ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD
The night of his disappearance Dick had sauntered forth from the hotelwith the jaunty assurance to Davis that he was going to call on a younglady. He offered no further details, and his friend asked for none,though he wondered a little what young woman in Santa Fe had inducedGordon to change his habits. The old miner had known him from boyhood.His partner had never found much time for the society of eligiblemaidens. He had been too busy living to find tea-cup discussions aboutlife interesting. The call of adventure had absorbed his youth, and hehad given his few mature years ardently to the great American game ofmoney-making. It was not that he loved gold. What Richard Gordon caredfor was the battle, the struggle against both honorable and unscrupulousfoe-men for success. He fought in the business world only because it wasthe test of strength. Money meant power. So he had made money.
It was not until Dick failed to appear for breakfast next morning thatDavis began to get uneasy. He sent a bellboy to awaken Gordon, andpresently the lad came back with word that he could get no answer to hisknocks. Instantly Steve pushed back his chair and walked out of the roomto the desk in the lobby.
"Got a skeleton key to Mr. Gordon's room--317, I think it is?" hedemanded.
"Yes. We keep duplicate keys. You see, Mr. Davis, guests go away andcarry the keys----"
"Then I want it. Afraid something's wrong with my friend. He's always upearly and on hand for breakfast. He hasn't showed up this mo'ning. Thebell hop can't waken him. I tell you something's wrong."
"Oh, I reckon he'll turn up all right." The clerk turned to the keyrack. "Here's the key to Room 317. Mr. Gordon must have left it here.Likely he's gone for a walk."
Davis shook his head obstinately. "Don't believe it. I'm going up tosee, anyhow."
Within five minutes he discovered that the bed in Room 317 had not beenslept in the previous night. He was thoroughly alarmed. Gordon had nofriends in the town likely to put him up for the night. Nor was he thesort of rounder to dissipate his energies in all-night debauchery. Dickhad come to Santa Fe for a definite purpose. The old miner knew fromlong experience that he would not be diverted from it for the sake ofthe futile foolish diversions known by some as pleasure. Therefore themind of Davis jumped at once to the conclusion of foul play.
And if foul play, then the Valdes claimants to the Rio Chamo Valley werethe guilty parties. He blamed himself bitterly for having let Dickventure out alone, for having taken no precautions whatever to guard himagainst the Mexicans who had already once attempted his life.
"I'm a fine friend. Didn't even find out who he was going out to callon. Fact is, I didn't figure he was in any danger so long as he was intown here," he explained to the sheriff.
He learned nothing either at the police headquarters or at the newspaperoffices that threw light on the disappearance of Gordon. No murder hadbeen reported during the night. No unusual disturbance of any kind hadoccurred, so far as could be learned.
Before noon he had the town plastered with posters in English and inSpanish offering a reward of five hundred dollars for news leading tothe recovery of Richard Gordon or for evidence leading to the convictionof his murderers in case he was dead. This brought two callers to thehotel almost at once. One was the attorney Fitt, the other a young womanwho gave her name as Kate Underwood. Fitt used an hour of the oldminer's time to no purpose, but the young woman brought with her onepiece of news.
"I want to know when Mr. Gordon was last seen," she explained, "becausehe was calling on my mother and me last night and left about teno'clock."
The little man got to his feet in great excitement. "My dear youngwoman, you're the very person I've been wanting to see. He told me hewas going calling, but I'm such a darned chump I didn't think to askwhere. Is Dick a friend of your family?"
"No, hardly that. I met him when he came to our office in the StateHouse to look up the land grant papers. We became friendly and I askedhim to call because we own the old Valdes house, and I thought he wouldlike to see it." She added, rather dryly: "You haven't answered myquestion."
"I'll say that so far as I know you are the last person who ever sawDick alive except his murderers," Davis replied, a gleam of tears in hiseyes.
"Oh, it can't be as bad as that," she cried. "They wouldn't go thatfar."
"Wouldn't they? He was shot at from ambush while we were out riding oneday in the Chama Valley."
"By whom?"
"By a young Mexican--one of Miss Valdes servants."
"You don't mean that Valencia----?"
She stopped, unwilling to put her horrified thought into words. Heanswered her meaning.
"No, I reckon not. She wanted Dick to tell her who it was, so she couldpunish the man. But that doesn't alter the facts any. He was shot at.That time the murderer missed, but maybe this time----"
Miss Underwood broke in sharply. "Do you know that he has been followedever since he came to town, that men have dogged his steps everywhere?"
Davis leaned across the table where he was sitting. "How do you know?"he questioned eagerly.
"I saw them and warned him. He laughed about it and said he knewalready. He didn't seem at all worried."
"Worried! He's just kid enough to be tickled to death about it," snappedthe miner, masking his anxiety with irritation. "He hadn't sense enoughto tell me for fear it would disturb me--and I hadn't the sense to findout in several days what you did in five minutes."
Davis and Miss Underwood went together over every foot of the roadbetween her home and the hotel. One ray of hope they got from theirexamination of the ground he must have traversed to reach the El Tovar,as the hotel was named. At one spot--where a double row of cottonwoodslined the road--a fence had been knocked down and many feet had trampledthe sandy pasture within. Steve picked up a torn piece of cloth aboutsix inches by twelve in dimension. It had evidently been a part of acoat sleeve. He recognized the pattern as that of the suit his friendhad been wearing.
"A part of his coat all right," he said. "They must have bushwhacked himhere. By the foot-prints there were a good many of them."
"I'm glad there were."
"Why?"
"For two reasons," the girl explained. "In the first place, if they hadwanted to kill him, one or two would have been enough. They wouldn'ttake any more than was necessary into their confidence."
"That's right. Your head's level there."
"And, in the second place, two men can keep a secret, but six or eightcan't. Some one of them is bound to talk to his sweetheart or wife orfriend."
"True enough. That five hundred dollars might get one of 'em, too."
"Somehow I believe he is alive. His enemies have taken him awaysomewhere--probably up into the hills."
"But why?"
"You ought to know that better than I do. What could they gain by it?"
He scratched his gray head. "Search me. They couldn't aim to hold himtill after the trial. That would be a kid's play."
"Couldn't they get him to sign some paper--something saying that hewould give up his claim--or that he would sell out cheap?"
"No, they couldn't," the old man answered grimly. "But they might thinkthey could. I expect that's the play. Dick never in the world would comethrough, though. He's game, that boy is. The point is, what will they dowhen they find he stands the acid?"
Miss Underwood looked quickly at him, then looked quickly away. She knewwhat they would do. So did Davis.
"No, that's not the point. We must find him--just as soon as we can.Stir this whole town up and rake it with a fine-tooth comb. See if anyof Miss Valdes' peons are in town. If they are have them shadowed."
They separated presently, she to go to the State House, he to return tothe El Tovar. There he found the telegram from Miss Valdes awaiting him.Immediately he dictated an answer.
Before nightfall a second supply of posters decorated walls andbillboards. The reward was raised to one thousand dollars forinformation that would lead to the finding of Ri
chard Gordon alive andthe same sum for evidence sufficient to convict his murderers in case hewas dead. It seemed impossible that in so small a place, with everybodydiscussing the mysterious disappearance, the affair could long remain asecret. Davis did not doubt that Miss Underwood was correct in herassumption that the assailants of Gordon had carried him with them intosome hidden pocket of the hills, in which case it might take longer torun them to earth. The great danger that he feared was panic on the partof the abductors. To cover their tracks they might kill him and leavethis part of the country. The closer pursuit pressed on them the morelikely this was to happen. It behooved him to move with the greatestcare.
A Daughter of the Dons: A Story of New Mexico Today Page 15
