CHAPTER XX: TO COMPEL AN ANSWER
Although feeling the need of food, Westcott entered the dining-room ofthe Timmons' House more desirous of being alone than for any otherpurpose. He realised that he was suddenly brought face to face with amost serious condition, and one which must be solved unaided. He darenot venture upon a single step forward until he had first thought outcarefully the entire course to be followed. Two lives, and perhapsthree, including his own, were now in imminent peril, and any mistakeon his part would prove most disastrous. First of all he must keep hisown counsel. Not even the half-drunken Timmons could be allowed tosuspect the real depth of his interest in this affair.
Fortunately, it was so late in the morning he was left undisturbed at aside table, screened from the open door leading into the office.Sadie, the waitress, took his order and immediately disappeared,leaving him to his own thoughts. These were far from happy ones, ashis mind rapidly reviewed the situation and endeavoured to concentrateupon some practical plan of action.
So Bill Lacy expected him? Had left word where he was to be found?What was the probable meaning of this? Westcott did not connect thismessage directly with the strange disappearance of Miss Donovan.Whether or not Lacy was concerned in that outrage had nothing to dowith this, for the man could scarcely be aware of his deep interest inthe girl. No, this must be his own personal affair, complicated by thecase of Cavendish. Moore must have recognised him during their fight,and reported to his master who it was that had been discoveredlistening at the window. Realising the nature of that conversation,Lacy naturally anticipated being sought the very moment Westcott cameto town. That was what this meant. All right, he would hunt Lacy assoon as he was ready to do so; and, as Timmons suggested, would go"heeled."
But the girl? What had really become of the girl? There was no way ofproving she had not gone East, for there was no agent at the station atthat hour, and the night train could be halted by any one waving asignal light. Westcott drew the brief note from his pocket, smoothedout its creases and read the few words over again. The writing wasunquestionably feminine, and he could recall seeing nothing MissDonovan had ever indited, with which it could be compared. But wouldshe have departed, however hurriedly, without leaving him some message?To be sure there had been little enough between them of intimacy orunderstanding; nothing he could really construe into a promise--yet hehad given her complete trust, and had felt a friendly response. Hecould not compel himself to believe she would prove unfaithful.Unconsciously he still held the letter in his hand when the waitresscame in with his breakfast. She glanced about to make certain theywere alone and leaned over, her lips close to his ear.
"Is that the note they say that New York young lady left?"
"Yes, Sadie," in surprise. "Why?"
"Well, she never wrote it, Mr. Westcott," hurriedly placing the dishesbefore him, "that's all. Now don't yer say a word to anybody that Itold yer; but she didn't go East at all; she wus took in a wagon downthe desert road. I saw 'em take her."
"You saw them? Who?"
"Well, I don't just know that, 'cept it was Matt Moore's team, an' hewus drivin' it. I didn't see the others so es to be sure. Yer see ushelp sleep over the kitchen, an' 'bout one o'clock I woke up--herecomes Timmons; he mustn't see me talkin' ter yer."
She flicked her napkin over the table, picked up an emptied dish andvanished through the swinging-doors. Timmons, however, merely came insearching for the Chinaman, and not finding the latter immediately,retired again to the office, without even addressing his guest, who wasbusily eating. Sadie peered in once more and, seeing all was clear,crossed over beside Westcott.
"Well, as I was sayin'," she resumed, "I thought I heard a noiseoutside, an' got up an' went to the winder. I couldn't see much, not'nough so I could swear to nuthin'; but there was three or four men outthere just across that little gully, you know, an' they had a womanwith 'em. She didn't scream none, but she was tryin' ter git away;wunst she run, but they caught her. I didn't see no wagon then, it wasbehind the ridge, I reckon. After a while it drove off down the southtrail, an' a little later three men come up them outside stairs backinto the hotel. They was mighty still 'bout it, too."
"You couldn't tell who they were?"
"They wa'n't like nuthin' but shadders; it was a purty dark night."
"So it was, Sadie. Do you imagine Timmons had anything to do with theaffair?"
"Timmons? Not him. There wa'n't no figure like his in that bunch; I'dknow him in the dark."
"But the woman might not have been Miss Donovan; isn't there anotheryoung lady here from the East?"
Sadie tossed her head, but with her eyes cautiously fixed on the officedoor.
"Humph; you mean the peroxid blonde! She ain't no _lady_. Well, itwa'n't her, that's a cinch; she was down yere to breakfast, a laughin'an' gigglin' with them two men 'bout an hour ago. They seemed ter feelmighty good over something but I couldn't quite make out just what thejoke was. Say, did yer ever hear tell of a Mexican named Mendez?"
"Well, rather; he's a cattle thief, or worse. Arizona has a big rewardout for him, dead or alive."
"That's the gink, I bet yer; has he got a hang-out anywhar 'round thiscountry?"
"Not so far as I know; in fact, I haven't heard the fellow's namementioned for six months, or more. What makes you suspect this?"
Sadie leaned even closer, her voice trembling with excitement,evidently convinced that her information was of the utmost importance.
"For God's sake, Mr. Westcott," she whispered, "don't never tellanybody I told yer, but she was awful good ter me, an' that pasty-facedblonde makes me sick just ter look at her. You know the feller theycall Enright, I reckon he's a lawyer."
Westcott nodded.
"Well, he was doin' most of the talkin', an' I was foolin' round thesideboard yonder, pretendin' ter clean it up. Nobody thought I was inear distance, but I got hold ov a word now an' then. He kept tellin''em, 'specially the blonde, 'bout this Mexican, who's a friend of BillLacy, an' I judge has a place whar he hangs out with his gang somewharin the big desert."
"Was anything said about Miss Donovan?"
"Not by name; they was too smart for that; but that was the directionMatt Moore drove off last night--there's Enright comin' down-stairsnow; won't yer hav' some more cakes, sir?"
Westcott pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. He had extractedall the information the girl possessed, and had no wish to expose herto suspicion. There was no longer a doubt in his mind as to the fateof Miss Donovan. She had been forcibly abducted by this gang ofthieves, and put where her knowledge could do them no harm. But where?The clue had been given him, but before it could be of any value hemust learn more of this Mexican, Mendez. The name itself was familiarenough, for it was one often spoken along the border in connection withcrime, but beyond this meant nothing to him. The fellow had alwaysappeared a rather mythical character, but now became suddenly real.The marshal might know; if not, then he must choke the truth out ofLacy. Determined to make the effort, he muttered a swift word ofthanks to Sadie and left the room.
Enright was not in the office, but had evidently merely passed throughand gone out. Timmons was sound asleep in a chair by the window,oblivious to any ordinary noise. From the open doorway Westcott tookcareful survey Of the street, adjusting his belt so that the butt ofhis revolver was more convenient to the hand. He had no conceptionthat his coming interview with Lacy was to be altogether a pleasantone, and realised fully the danger confronting him.
Very few of the citizens of Haskell were abroad, although a small groupwere ornamenting the platform in front of Healey's saloon opposite. Atthat moment the little marshal, his broad-brimmed hat cocked over oneeye, emerged from the narrow alleyway between the Red Dog and theadjacent dance-hall, and stood there doubtfully, his gaze wandering upand down the deserted street. As Westcott descended the hotel-steps,the marshal saw him, and came forward. His manner was prompt andbusinesslike.
"Hello, Jim," he said rather briskly, "I was sorter lookin' 'round feryer; somebody said yer hoss was up at the stable. Had a little troubleup your way last night, I hear."
"Nothing to bother you, Dan; my Mexican watchman was shot up through awindow of the shack."
"Kill him?"
"Instantly; I told the coroner all about it. Whoever the fellow was Ireckon he meant the shot for me, but poor Jose got it."
"Yer didn't glimpse the critter?"
"No, it was long after dark. I've got my suspicions, but they'll keep.Seen Bill Lacy this morning?"
The marshal's thin lips smiled grimly as his eyes lifted to Westcott'sface.
"He's back there in his office. That's what I stopped yer for. Hesaid he rather expected ye'd be along after awhile. What's up betweenyer, Jim? Not this Mexican shootin' scrape?"
"Not unless he mentions it, Dan, although I reckon he might be able toguess how it happened. Just now I've got some other things to talkabout--he's cutting into my vein."
"The hell he is!"
"Sure; I got proof of it last night. He's running a cross channel. Iwas down his shaft."
"I heard he's knocked off work; discharged his men."
"Yes, but only to give him time in which to pull off some otherdeviltry. That gave me opportunity to learn just what was being done.I slipped into the workings after the gang had left, and now I'veblocked his game. Say, Dan, what do you know about that Mexican,Mendez?"
"Nuthin' good. I never put eyes on the fellow. Some claim he's got aplace where he hides, out thar in the Shoshone desert, but I never gothold of anybody yet as really knew."
"There is such a man, then?"
"Sure. Why he an' his gang had a pitched battle down on Rattlesnake'bout six months ago; killed three of the sheriff's posse, an' gotaway. Seemed like the whole outfit naturally dropped inter the earth.Never saw hide ner hair of 'em afterward."
"I've heard that he and Bill Lacy were in cahoots."
"Likely enough; ain't much Lacy ain't into. He's been sellin' a pileof cattle over at Taylorsville lately, an' likely most of 'em wasstole. But hell! What can I do? Besides, that's the sheriff's job,ain't it? What yer goin' in to see him about, Jim?"
"Only to ask a few questions."
"There ain't goin' ter be no fight er nuthin'?" anxiously.
Westcott laughed.
"I don't see any cause for any," he answered. "But Bill might be a bittouchy. Maybe, Dan, it might be worth while for you to hang around.Do as you please about that."
He turned away and went up the wooden steps to the door of the Red Dog.The marshal's eyes followed him solicitously until he disappearedwithin; then he slipped back into the alleyway, skirting the side ofthe building, until he reached a window near the rear.
Westcott closed the door behind him and took a swift view of thebarroom. There were not many present at that hour--only a few habitualloafers, mostly playing cards; a porter was sweeping up sawdust and asingle bartender was industriously swabbing the bar with a towel.Westcott recognised most of the faces with a slight feeling of relief.Neither Enright nor Beaton were present, and it was his desire to meetLacy alone, away from the influence of these others. He crossed overto the bar.
"Where's Bill?" he asked.
"Back there," and the dispenser of drinks inclined his head toward adoor at the rear. "Go on in."
The fellow's manner was civil enough, yet Westcott's teeth set with afeeling that he was about to face an emergency. Yet there was no otherway; he must make Lacy talk. He walked straight to the door, openedit, stepped into the room beyond, and turned the key in the lock,dropping it into his pocket. Then he faced about. He was not alonewith Lacy; Enright sat beside the desk of the other and was staring athim in startled surprise. Westcott also had a hazy impression thatthere was or had been another person. The saloon-keeper rose to hisfeet, angry, and thrown completely off his guard by Westcott'sunexpected action.
"What the hell does that mean?" he demanded hotly. "Why did you lockthe door?"
"Naturally, to keep you in here until I am through with you," returnedthe miner coldly. "Sit down, Lacy; we've got a few things to talkover. You left word for me at the hotel, and, being a polite man, Iaccepted your invitation. I supposed I would find you alone."
Lacy sank back into his chair, endeavouring to smile.
"This gentleman is a friend of mine," he explained. "Whatever you careto say can be said before him."
"I am quite well aware of that and also that he is now present so thatyou may use him as a witness in case anything goes wrong. This is onceyou have got in bad, Mr. Patrick Enright, of New York."
The lawyer's face whitened, and his hands gripped the arms of his chair.
"You--you know me?"
"By reputation only," and Westcott bowed, "but that is scarcely to yourcredit. I know this, however, that for various reasons you possess nodesire to advertise your presence in Haskell. It would be rather adifficult matter to explain back in the city just what you were doingout here in such intimate association with a chorus girl and a Bowerygunman, let alone our immaculate friend, Lacy, yonder. The courts, Ibelieve, have not yet distributed the Cavendish money."
Enright's mouth was open, but no sound came from his lips; he seemed tobe gasping for breath.
"I merely mention this," went on Westcott slowly, "to help you graspthe situation. We have a rough, rude way of handling such matters outhere. Now Lacy and I have got a little affair to settle between usand, being a fair-minded man, he sent for me to talk it over. However,he realises that an argument of that nature might easily becomepersonal and that if anything unpleasant occurred he would require awitness. So he arranges to have you present. Do you see the point,Mr. Enright?"
The lawyer's eyes sought Lacy, and then returned to the stern faceconfronting him. His lips sputtered:
"As--as a witness?"
"Sure; there may be honour among thieves, but not Lacy's kind." Hestrode forward and with one hand crunched Enright back into his chair."Now, listen to me," he said fiercely. "I've got only one word ofadvice for you: don't take any hand in this affair, except as apeacemaker, for if you do, you are going to get hurt. Now, Bill Lacy,I'm ready to talk with you. I was down in your shaft last night."
The saloonman lit a cigar and leaned back in his chair.
"I ought to have thought of that, Westcott," he admitted. "Still, Idon't know that I give a damn."
"The work hadn't been left in very good shape, and I found the crosstunnel and measured it. You are within a few feet of my vein. Thecounty surveyor ought to have been out there two hours ago."
Lacy straightened up, all semblance of indifference gone, an oath onhis lips.
"You cur! You filed complaint? When?"
"At seven o'clock this morning. We'll fight that out in the courts.However, that isn't what I came here for at all. I came to ask you aquestion and one of you two are going to answer before I leave--keepyour hand up, and in sight, Lacy; make another move like that and it'sliable to be your last. I am not here in any playful mood, and I knowyour style. Lay that gun on the desk where I can see it--that's right.Now move your chair back."
Lacy did this with no good grace, his face purple with passion.Westcott had been too quick, too thoroughly prepared for him, but hewould watch his opportunity. He could afford to wait, knowing thecards he had up his sleeve.
"Some considerable gun-play just to ask a question," he saidtauntingly, "must be mighty important. All right, what is it?"
"Where did your man Moore take Miss Donovan last night?"
The Strange Case of Cavendish Page 20
