Mystery Ranch

by Arthur Chapman

  CHAPTER XII

  Talpers was back in his store in two days. Lowell sent word that thetrader might return. At first Talpers was hesitant and suspicious. Therewas a lurking fear in his mind that the agent had some trick in view,but, as life took its accustomed course, Bill resumed his domineeringattitude about the store. A casual explanation that he had been buyingsome cattle was enough to explain his absence.

  Bill's recent experiences had caused him to regard the agent with newhatred, not unmixed with fear. The obvious thing for Lowell to have donewas to have rushed more men on the trail and captured Talpers and McFannbefore they crossed the reservation line. It could have been done, withFire Bear doing the trailing. Even the half-breed admitted that much.But, instead of carrying out such a programme, the agent had sent FireBear and Plenty Buffalo with word that the trader might come back--thatno prosecution was intended.

  Clearly enough such an unusual proceeding indicated that the girl wasstill afraid on account of the letter, and had persuaded the agent toabandon the chase. There was the key to the whole situation--the letter!Bill determined to guard it more closely than ever. He opened his safefrequently to see that it was there.

  As a whole, then, things were not breaking so badly, Bill figured. To besure, it would have cleared things permanently if Jim McFann had done ashe had been told, instead of weakening in such unexpected and absurdfashion. Bringing that girl into camp, as Jim had done, had givenTalpers the most unpleasant surprise of his life. He had come out of theaffair luckily. The letter was what had done it all. He would lie lowand keep an eye on affairs from now on. McFann would have no difficultyin shifting for himself out in the sagebrush, now that he was alone.Bill would see that he got grub and even a little whiskey occasionally,but there would be no more assignments for him in which women wereconcerned, for the half-breed had too tender a heart for his own good!

  The Indian agent stopped at Bill's store occasionally, on his way to andfrom the Greek Letter Ranch. Their conversation ran mostly to trade andminor affairs of life in general. Even the weather was fallen back uponin case some one happened to be within earshot, which was usually thecase, as Bill's store was seldom empty. No one who heard them wouldsuspect that the men were watching, weighing, and fathoming each otherwith all the nicety at individual command. Talpers was always wonderingjust how much the Indian agent knew, and Lowell was saying to himself:

  "This scoundrel has some knowledge in his possession which vitallyaffects the young woman I love. Also he is concerned, perhaps deeply, inthe murder on the Dollar Sign road. Yet he has fortified himself so wellin his villainy that he feels secure."

  For all his increased feeling of security, Talpers was wise enough tolet the bottle alone and also to do no boasting. Likewise he stuckfaithfully to his store--so faithfully that it became a matter of publiccomment.

  "If Bill sticks much closer to this store he's goin' to fall into adecline," said Andy Wolters, who had been restored to favor in thecircle of cowpunchers that lolled about Talpers's place. "He's gettin' areg'lar prison pallor now. He used to be hittin' the trail once in awhile, but nowadays he's hangin' around that post-office section as ifhe expected a letter notifyin' him that a rich uncle had died."

  "Mebbe he's afraid of travelin' these parts since that feller was killedon the Dollar Sign," suggested another cowboy. "Doggoned if I don't feela little shaky myself sometimes when I'm ridin' that road alone atnight. Looks like some of them Injuns ought to have been hung for thatmurder, right off the reel, and then folks'd feel a lot easier in theirminds."

  The talk then would drift invariably to the subject of the murder andthe general folly of the court in allowing Fire Bear to go on the Indianagent's recognizance. But Talpers, though he heard the chorus ofdenunciation from the back of the store, and though he was frequentlycalled upon for an opinion, never could be drawn into the conversation.He bullied his clerk as usual, and once in a while swept down, in astorm of baseless anger, upon some unoffending Indian, just to show thatBill Talpers was still a man to be feared, but for the most part hewaited silently, with the confidence of a man who holds a winning handat cards.

  The same days that saw Talpers's confidence returning were days ofdissatisfaction to Lowell. He felt that he was being constantlythwarted. He would have preferred to give his entire attention to themurder mystery, but details of reservation management crowded upon himin a way that made avoidance impossible. Among his duties Lowell foundthat he must act as judge and jury in many cases that came up. Therewere domestic difficulties to be straightened out, and thieves andbrawlers to be sentenced. Likewise there was occasional flotsam, cast upfrom the human sea outside the reservation, which required attention.

  One of those reminders of the outer world was brought in by an Indianpoliceman. The stranger was a rough-looking individual, to allappearances a harmless tramp, who had been picked up "hoofing it" acrossthe reservation.

  The Indian policeman explained, through the interpreter, that he hadfound the wanderer near a sub-agency, several miles away--that he hadshown a disposition to fight, and had only been cowed by the promptpresentation of a revolver at his head.

  "Why, you 're no tramp--you're a yeggman," said Lowell to the prisoner,interrupting voluble protestations of innocence. "You're one of thegentry that live off small post-offices and banks. I'll bet you'vestolen stamps enough in your career to keep the Post-Office Departmentgoing six months. And you've given heart disease to no end ofstockholders in small banks--prosperous citizens who have had to makegood the losses caused by your safe-breaking operations. Am I bringingan unjust indictment against you, pardner?"

  A flicker of a smile was discernible somewhere in the tangle of beardthat hid the lineaments of the prisoner's face.

  "If I inventoried the contents of this bundle," continued Lowell, "I'dfind a pretty complete outfit of the tools that keep the safe companiesworking overtime on replacements, wouldn't I?"

  The prisoner nodded.

  "There's no use of my dodgin', judge," he said. "The tools arethere--all of 'em. But I'm through with the game. All I want now isenough of a stake to get me back home to Omaha, where the family is.That's why I was footin' it acrost this Injun country--takin' a shortcut to a railroad where I wouldn't be watched for."

  "I'll consider your case awhile," remarked Lowell after a moment'sthought. "Perhaps we can speed you on your way to Omaha and the family."

  The prisoner was taken back to the agency jail leaving his bundle onLowell's desk. About midnight Lowell took the bundle and, going to thejail, roused the policeman who was on guard and was admitted to theprisoner's cell.

  "Look here, Red," said Lowell. "Your name is Red, isn't it?"

  "Red Egan."

  "Well, Red Egan, did you ever hear of Jimmy Valentine?"

  The prisoner scratched his head while he puffed at a welcome cigarette.

  "No? Well, Red, this Jimmy Valentine was in the business you'requitting, and he opened a safe in a good cause. I want you to do thesame for me. If you can do a neat job, with no noise, I'll see that youget across the reservation all right, with stake enough to get you toOmaha."

  "You're on, judge! I'd crack one more for a good scout like you anyday."

  Three quarters of an hour later Red Egan was working professionally uponthe safe in Bill Talpers's store. The door to Talpers's sleeping-roomwas not far away, but it was closed, and the trader was a thoroughsleeper, so the cracksman might have been conducting operations a miledistant, so far as interruption from Bill was concerned.

  As he worked, Red Egan told whispered stories to a companion--storieswhich related to barriers burned, pried, and blown away.

  "I don't mind how close they sleep to their junk," observed Red, as herested momentarily from his labors. "Unless a man's got insomnier andinsists on makin' his bed on top of his safe, he ain't got a chance tomake his iron doors stay shut if one of the real good 'uns takes anotion to make 'em fly apart. There she goes!" he added a moment later,as the safe door swung open.
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  "All right, Red," came the whispered reply, "but remember that I getwhatever money's in sight, just for appearances' sake, though it'sletters and such things I'm really after."

  "It goes as you say, boss, and I hope you get what you want. There goesthat inside door."

  In the light of a flash-lamp Lowell saw a letter and a roll of bills. Hetook both, while Red Egan, his work done, packed up the kit of tools.

  Lowell had recognized Helen's handwriting on the envelope, and knew hehad found what he wanted.

  "You've earned that trip to Omaha, Red," said Lowell, after they hadgone back to their horses which had been standing in a cottonwood grovenear by. "When we get back to the agency I'll put you in my car anddrive you far enough by daybreak so that you can catch a train at noon."

  "You're a square guy, judge, but if that's the letter you've beenwantin' to get, why don't you read it? Or maybe you know what's in itwithout readin' it."

  "No, I don't know what's in it, and I don't want to read it, Red."

  Red's amazed whistle cut through the night silence.

  "Well, if that ain't the limit! Havin' a safe-crackin' job done for aletter that you ain't ever seen and don't want to see the inside of!"

  "It's all right, Red. Don't worry about it, because you've earned yourmoney twice over to-night. Don't look on your last job as a failure, byany means."

  * * * * *

  A few hours later the Indian agent, not looking like a man who had beenup all night, halted his car at Talpers's store, after he had receivedan excited hail from Andy Wolters.

  "You're jest in time!" exclaimed Andy. "Bill Talpers's safe has beencracked and Bill is jest now tryin' to figger the damage. He says he'slost a roll of money and some other things."

  Lowell found Talpers going excitedly through the contents of his brokensafe. It was not the first time the trader had pawed over the papers.Nor were the oaths that fell on Lowell's ears the first that the traderhad uttered since the discovery that he had been robbed as he slept.

  It was plain enough that Talpers was suffering from a deeper shock thancould come through any mere loss of money. Not even when Lowellcontrived to drop the roll of bills, where the trader's clerk picked itup with a whoop of glee, did Talpers's expression change. His oaths werethose of a man distraught, and the contumely he heaped upon Sheriff TomRedmond moved that official to a spirited defense.

  "I can't see why you hold me responsible for a safe that you've beenkeeping within earshot all these years," retorted Tom, in answer toTalpers's sneers about the lack of protection afforded the county'sbusiness men. "If you can't hear a yeggman working right next to yoursleeping-quarters, how do you expect me to hear him, 'way over to WhiteLodge? I'll leave it to Lowell here if your complaint is reasonable.I'll do the best I can to get this man, but it looks to me as if he'smade a clean getaway. What sort of papers was it you said you lost,Bill?"

  "I didn't say."

  "Well, then, I'm asking you. Was they long or short, rolled or flat, ortied with pink ribbon?"

  "Never mind!" roared Talpers. "You round up this burglar and let me gothrough him. I'll get what's mine, all right."

  Redmond made a gesture of despair. A man who had been robbed and hadrecovered his money, and was so keen after papers that he wouldn't orcouldn't describe, was past all fooling with. The sheriff rode off,grumbling, without even questioning Lowell to ascertain if the Indianpolice had seen any suspicious characters on the reservation.

  Bill Talpers's mental convolutions following the robbery reminded Lowellof the writhing of a wounded snake. Bill's fear was that the letterwould be picked up and sent back to the girl at the Greek Letter Ranch.Suspicion of a plot in the affair did not enter his head. To him it wasjust a sinister stroke of misfortune--one of the chance buffets of fate.One tramp burglar out of the many pursuing that vocation had happenedupon the Talpers establishment at a time when its proprietor was in anunusually sound sleep. Bill gave himself over to thoughts of the variousforms of punishment he would inflict upon the wandering yeggman in casea capture were effected--thoughts which came to naught, as Red Egan hadbeen given so generous a start toward his Omaha goal that he never washeaded.

  As the days went past and the letter was not discovered, Bill began togather hope. Perhaps the burglar, thinking the letter of no value, haddestroyed it, in natural disgust at finding that he had dropped themoney which undoubtedly was the real object of his safe-breaking.

  If Talpers had known what had really happened to the letter, all hisself-comfortings would have vanished. Lowell had lost no time in takingthe missive to Helen. He had found affairs at the Greek Letter Ranchapparently unchanged. Wong was at work in the kitchen. Two Indians, whohad been hired to harvest the hay, which was the only crop on the ranch,were busy in a near-by field. Helen, looking charming in a house dressof blue, with white collar and cuffs, was feeding a tame magpie whenLowell drove into the yard.

  "Moving picture entitled 'The Metamorphosis of Miss Tatters,'" saidLowell, amusedly surveying her.

  "The scratches still survive, but the riding-suit will take a lot ofmending," said Helen, showing her scratched hands and wrists.

  "Well, if this very becoming costume has a pocket, here's something toput in it," remarked Lowell, handing her the letter.

  Helen's smile was succeeded by a startled, anxious look, as she glancedat the envelope and then at Lowell.

  "No need for worry," Lowell assured her. "Nobody has read that lettersince it passed out of the possession of our esteemed postmaster, BillTalpers, sometime after one o'clock this morning."

  "But how did he come to give it up?" asked Helen, her voice wavering.

  "He did not do so willingly. It might be said he did not give it upknowingly. As a matter of fact, our friend Talpers had no idea he hadlost his precious possession until it had been gone several hours."

  "But how--"

  "'How' is a word to be flung at Red Egan, knight of the steel drill andthe nitro bottle and other what-nots of up-to-date burglary," saidLowell. "Though I saw the thing done, I can't tell you how. I only hopeit clears matters for you."

  "It does in a way. I cannot tell you how grateful I am," said Helen, hertrembling hands tightly clutching the letter.

  "Only in a way? I am sorry it does not do more."

  "But it's a very important way, I assure you!" exclaimed Helen. "Iteliminates this man--this Talpers--as a personal menace. But when youare so eager to get every thread of evidence, how is it that you cangive this letter to me, unread? You must feel sure it has some bearingon the awful thing--the tragedy that took place back there on the hill."

  "That is where faith rises superior to a very human desire to look intothe details of mystery," said Lowell. "If I were a real detective, orspy, as you characterized me, I would have read that letter at the firstopportunity. But I knew that my reading it would cause you gravepersonal concern. I have faith in you to the extent that I believe youwould do nothing to bring injustice upon others. Consequently, from nowon I will proceed to forget that this letter ever existed."

  "You may regret that you have acted in this generous manner," said thegirl. "What if you find that all your faith has been misplaced--that Iam not worthy of the trust--"

  "Really, there is nothing to be gained by saying such things,"interposed Lowell. "As I told you, I am forgetting that the letter everexisted."

  "Do you know," she said, "I wish this letter could have come back to mefrom any one but you?"

  "Why?"

  "Because, coming as it has, I am more or less constrained to act asfairly as you believe I shall act."

  "You might give it back to Talpers and start in on any sort of a dealyou chose."

  "Impossible! For fear Talpers may get it, here is what I shall do to theletter."

  Here Helen tore it in small pieces and tossed them high in the air, thebreeze carrying them about the yard like snow.

  "In which event," laughed Lowell, "it seems that I win, and my faith iny
ou is to be justified."

  "I wish I could assure you of as much," answered Helen sadly. "But if ithappens that your trust is not justified, I hope you will not think tooharshly of me."

  "Harshly!" exclaimed Lowell. "Harshly! Why, if you practiced revolvershooting on me an hour before breakfast every morning, or if you used mefor a doormat here at the Greek Letter Ranch, I couldn't think anythingbut lovingly of you."

  "Oh!" cried Helen, clapping her hands over her ears and running up theporch steps, as Lowell turned to his automobile. "You've almost undoneall the good you've accomplished to-day."

  "Thanks for that word 'almost,'" laughed Lowell.

  "Then I'll make it 'quite,'" flung Helen, but her words were lost in theshifting of gears as Lowell started back to the agency.

  That night Helen dreamed that Bill Talpers, on hands and knees, wasmoving like a misshapen shadow about the yard in the moonlight pickingup the letter which she had torn to pieces.