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Tangled Trails: A Western Detective Story, a novel by William MacLeod Raine |
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Chapter 23. Cousins Disagree |
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_ CHAPTER XXIII. COUSINS DISAGREE It was essential to Kirby's plans that he should be at liberty. If he should be locked up in prison even for a few days the threads that he had begun to untangle from the snarl known as the Cunningham mystery would again be ensnared. He was not sure what action James would take at his brother's demand that he withdraw from the bond. But Lane had no desire to embarrass him by forcing the issue. He set about securing a new bond. He was, ten minutes later, in the law offices of Irwin, Foster & Warren, attorneys who represented the cattle interests in Wyoming with which Kirby was identified. Foster, a stout, middle-aged man with only a few locks of gray hair left, heard what the rough rider had to say. "I'll wire to Caldwell and to Norman as you suggest, Mr. Lane," he said. "If they give me instructions to stand back of you, I'll arrange a new bond as soon as possible." "Will it take long? I can't afford to be tied up behind the bars right now." "Not if I can get it accepted. I'll let you know at once." Kirby rose. He had finished his business. "Just a moment, Mr. Lane." Foster leaned back in his swivel-chair and looked out of the window. His eyes did not focus on any detail of the office building opposite. They had the far-away look which denotes a preoccupied mind. "Ever been to Golden?" he asked at last abruptly, swinging back in his seat and looking at his client. "No. Why?" "Golden is the Gretna Green of Denver, you know. When young people elope they go to Golden. When a couple gets married and doesn't want it known they choose Golden. Very convenient spot." "I'm not figuring on gettin' married right now," the cattleman said, smiling. "Still you might find a visit to the place interesting and useful. I was there on business a couple of weeks ago." The eyes of the men fastened. Lane knew he was being given a hint that Foster did not want to put more directly. "What are the interestin' points of the town?" asked the Twin Buttes man. "Well, sir, there are several. Of course, there's the School of Mines, and the mountains right back of the town. Gold was discovered there somewhere about fifty-seven, I think. Used to be the capital of the territory before Denver found her feet." "I'm rather busy." "Wouldn't take you long to run over on the interurban." The lawyer began to gather toward him the papers upon which he had been working when the client was shown in. He added casually: "I found it quite amusing to look over the marriage licenses of the last month or two. Found the names there of some of our prominent citizens. Well, I'll call you up as soon as I know about the bond." Lane was not entirely satisfied with what he had been told, but he knew that Foster had said all he meant to say. One thing stuck in his mind as the gist of the hint. The attorney was advising him to go to the court-house and check up the marriage licenses. He walked across to the Equitable Building and dropped in on his cousin James. Cunningham rose to meet him a bit stiffly. The cattleman knew that Jack had already been in to see him or had got him on the wire. Kirby brushed through any embarrassment there might be and told frankly why he had come. "I've had a sort of row with Jack. Under the circumstances I don't feel that I ought to let you stay on my bond. It might create ill-feelin' between you an' him. So I'm arrangin' to have some Wyoming friends put up whatever's required. You'll understand I haven't any bad feeling against you, or against him for that matter. You've been bully all through this thing, an' I'm certainly in your debt." "What's the trouble between you about?" asked James. "I've found out that he an' Miss Harriman were in Uncle James's rooms the night he was killed. I want them to come through an' tell what they know." "How did you find that out?" The eyes of the oil broker were hard as jade. They looked straight into those of his cousin. "I can't tell you that exactly. Put two an' two together." "You mean you _guess_ they were there. You don't _know_ it." A warm, friendly smile lit the brown face of the rough rider. He wanted to remain on good terms with James if he could. "I don't know it in a legal sense. Morally, I'm convinced of it." "Even though they deny it." "Practically they admitted rather than denied." "Do you think it was quite straight, Kirby, to go to Miss Harriman with such a trumped-up charge? I don't. I confess I'm surprised at you." In voice and expression James showed his disappointment. "It isn't a trumped-up charge. I wanted to know the truth from her." "Why didn't you go to Jack, then?"' "I didn't know at that time Jack was the man with her." "You don't know it now. You don't know she was there. In point of fact the idea is ridiculous. You surely don't think for a moment that she had anything to do with Uncle James's death." "No; not in the sense that she helped bring it about. But she knows somethin' she's hidin'." "That's absurd. Your imagination is too active, Kirby." "Can't agree with you." Lane met him eye to eye. "Grant for the sake of argument that she was in Uncle's room that night. Your friend Miss Rose McLean was there, too--by her own confession. When she came to Jack and me with her story, we respected it. We did not insist on knowing why she was there, and it was of her own free will she told us. Yet you go to our friend and distress her by implications that must shock and wound her. Was that generous? Was it even fair?" The cattleman stood convicted at the bar of his own judgment. His cousins had been magnanimous to Esther and Rose, more so than he had been to Miss Harriman. Yet, even while he confessed fault, he felt uneasily that there was a justification he could not quite lay hold of and put into words. "I'm sorry you feel that way, James. Perhaps I was wrong. But you want to remember that I wasn't askin' about what she knew with any idea of makin' it public or tellin' the police. I meant to keep it under my own hat to help run down a cold-blooded murderer." "You can't want to run him down any more than we do--and in that 'we' I include Jack and Miss Harriman as well as myself," the older man answered gravely. "But I'm sure you're entirely wrong. Miss Harriman knows nothing about it. If she had she would have confided in us." "Perhaps she has confided in Jack." "Don't you think that obsession of yours is rather--well, unlikely, to put it mildly? Analyze it and you'll find you haven't a single substantial fact to base it on." This was true. Yet Kirby's opinion was not changed. He still believed that Jack and Miss Harriman had been in his uncle's rooms just before Wild Rose had been there. He returned to the subject of the bond. It seemed to him best, he said, in view of Jack's feeling, to get other bondsmen. He hoped James would not interpret this to mean that he felt less friendly toward him. His cousin bowed, rather formally. "Just as you please. Would you like the matter arranged this afternoon?" Lane looked at his watch. "I haven't heard from my new bondsmen yet. Besides, I want to go to Golden. Would to-morrow morning suit you?" "I dare say." James stifled a yawn. "Did you say you were going to Golden?" "Yes. Some one gave me a tip. I don't know what there's in it, but I thought I'd have a look at the marriage-license registry." Cunningham flashed a startled glance at him that asked a peremptory question. "Probably waste of time. I've been in the oil business too long to pay any attention to tips." "Expect you're right, but I'll trot out there, anyhow. Never can tell." "What do you expect to find among the marriage licenses?" "Haven't the slightest idea. I'll tell you tomorrow what I do find." James made one dry, ironic comment. "I rather think you have too much imagination for sleuthing. You let your wild fancies gallop away with you. If I were you I'd go back to bronco busting." Kirby laughed. "Dare say you're right. I'll take your advice after we get the man we're after." _ |
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