Chapter 13

A MATTER OF BUSINESS

Isa Blagg was in no haste to state the nature of the business which had brought him upon so long a journey in search of Kiddie; and Kiddie did not press him for an explanation of his unexpected visit.

"Rube an' I, we ain't gettin' anyways tired of each other's company," Kiddie remarked when the meal was over and Isa was taking out his pipe. "All the same, Sheriff, we're main glad ter see you. Got any news?"

"News?" Isa was lighting his pipe. "No, thar ain't a whole lot. Things is kinder quiet along the trail, an' you ain't missin' a great deal of excitement. I'm told as Broken Feather's bin seen about again. Seems he's bin laid up f'r a while back with the bullet wound you gave him. But he ain't bin interferin' none, an' in any case, he don't come within my jurisdiction. Nick Undrell's different."

"What about Nick Undrell?" Kiddie asked.

"That fetches me up against the point," returned Isa. "That's the business brought me on your trail. But before we drag in Nick, I'll start at the beginnin'. I don't doubt you remember the name of Sanson T. Wrangler."

"Yes," Kiddie affirmed, "he kept a prosperous general store in Laramie. Used to sell very good candy an' a variety of temperance drinks, includin' a special brew of lemon squash, of which delectable beverage I've consumed some quarts."

"That's the man," resumed Isa. "But 'tain't just c'rrect ter call Sanson prosperous. Thar's a heap of competition in the temp'rance drink line, an' the retailin' of candy don't represent a gold mine. Sanson T. Wrangler's store hasn't flourished since the time he was in Leavenworth hospital for an operation. His speculations was unfortunate. He lost a heap of dollars an' got inter debt. His chief creditor threatened law proceedings against him if he didn't shell out slick. Ter meet his liabilities he sold out a quantity of his stock. He borrowed where he could, an' one way with another, he accumulated enough capital ter pay that debt on the stipulated date, which was last Monday. Are you listenin', Kiddie? You're gazin' up inter them clouds as if you was composin' a poem to 'em, 'stead of cipherin' out the problem I'm puttin' in front of you."

"I assure you I'm all attention, Isa," Kiddie averred. "I expect you're going to tell me now that Sanson T. Wrangler got foolin' around in some low down gamblin' saloon and lost that pile of dollars over a game of poker. What?"

"No," continued Isa, "that wasn't the way of it; though I allow he was in Brierley's saloon Saturday night, boastin' to his friends about how he'd rounded up the cash, and had locked it away in his iron safe back of the store. On Sunday he didn't show up at meetin': nobody saw him all day. Next mornin' his store wasn't opened as usual. The matter was put inter my hands, an' I entered the premises t' investigate. First thing I see was Sanson T. Wrangler's iron safe standin' open an' empty, th' account books an' papers bein' flung around in disorder. Second thing was Sanson T. Wrangler hisself lyin' huddled up in a corner 'f th' room, gagged an' apparently unconscious."

"Why 'apparently'?" questioned Kiddie.

"Didn't move, didn't make no sound," explained the sheriff. "When I turned him over he was kinder mazy, didn't know where he was or what had occurred, an' was like as he was sick. Afterward, however, he was able t' give a circumstantial account of the robbery. His wife an' daughter'd gone away to St. Louis. He was livin' alone in th' emporium. Sunday evenin' he was on the point of goin' out ter meetin' when, on openin' the door, he caught sight of two masked men--strangers, so far's he c'n tell, though he'd an idea as to the identity of one of 'em. They dropped on him instanter; a pair of arms was flung around him, and a cloth that had a sickly sweet smell, like the stuff given him in hospital t' send him asleep, was clapped over his head. He struggled, but was soon overpowered, dragged across the floor, and deposited unconscious in the darkest corner of the room. It was while I was present that he first come ter know that his thief-proof safe had been opened and that his pile of greenbacks had been stolen. The safe had been opened with the key hidden back of the tobacco jar on his writin' desk."

Isa Blagg broke off, looking to Kiddie for comment.

"Well?" said Kiddie. "Go on. What's your theory? You mentioned the name of Nick Undrell a while back. Have you arrested him?"

"Nick's vamoosed," resumed the sheriff; "an' that goes against him. He was sure in Laramie Saturday night--even in Brierley's saloon. He knew about Sanson T. Wrangler's pile o' money bein' fixed up in the safe. He wasn't anyways friendly disposed to Sanson T. neither. Thar's a heap of evidence pointin' straight to Nick Undrell. It's in Nick's methods ter wear a black face-mask an' leave his victim helplessly gagged. I allow as Jim Thurston declares he met Nick at Three Crossings Sunday evenin'; but Jim's a pard of Nick's, an' his unsupported word ain't worth a whole lot, anyway."

Rube Carter leant forward. He was deeply interested in this case of burglary with violence.

"Say, now, sheriff," he interposed, "didn't you look for footprints and finger-marks?"

Isa shook his head.

"Never knew a clean boot make a print on a soft pile carpet," he answered. "As fer finger-marks--Sanson T. Wrangler's ready ter swear in court as the criminals both wore gloves, fully provin' that they wasn't novices in the burglary business."

He turned again to Kiddie.

"Knowin' as you're kinder int'rested in the moral regeneration of Nick Undrell, Kiddie," he went on, "I've hesitated ter issue a warrant for the man's arrest. I concluded that before goin' to extreme measures I should be wise ter take your advice. I'm here now for that purpose."

Kiddie smiled.

"My personal interest in him would be no excuse for your allowin' a guilty man to go free and unpunished," he observed judicially. "If you believe that Nick Undrell committed this burglary, then by all means issue your warrant and have him arrested. There are circumstances in the case, however, which do not seem to me to support your suspicions. Let us examine them. You suspect Nick because he knew of the money and where it was kept. He wasn't the only one who knew. Sanson T. Wrangler had publicly boasted of his readiness to meet his liabilities, and every man in the crowded saloon must have known just as much as Nick. I allow that Nick's an old offender; but it ain't fair to condemn him on mere supposition, simply because the victim in this case is alleged to have been gagged by a man wearing a mask. I'm not saying that Nick didn't do it, mind you; but you've got to prove that Jim Thurston was lying when he said he saw Nick along at Three Crossings on Sunday evening--a good seventy miles away from the scene of the crime."

Kiddie paused for a moment.

"Were Sanson's shirt-sleeves buttoned at the wrist, or were they rolled up?" he asked abruptly.

"Rolled up t' the elbow," Isa answered quickly. "His arms was bare."

"And the bag or cloth, with the chloroform in it, was drawn down over his hat, I suppose?" pursued Kiddie.

"No. His hat was hangin' up, back of the door. But you're right about the bag. It was like a big nightcap. He'd pulled it off."

"You smelt the sickly sweet smell about the room when you entered, did you, Isa?"

"Can't say as I did. Guess it had evaporated by then."

"Dare say," nodded Kiddie. "Y'see it was at least twelve hours afterwards, and--say, now, don't you reckon twelve hours a precious long time for a man to lie insensible after only one dose of chloroform?"

"Dunno," said the sheriff, "I'm ignorant of the effects an' uses of them outlandish drugs."

"And yet you imagine that Nick Undrell knew how to use it, or get hold of a dose of it, even if he knew! Why, I don't figure that Nick ever heard the name of the stuff--not havin' been in hospital, like Sanson T. Wrangler. If you ask me, Isa, I don't believe there was any chloroform within a day's ride of Laramie on Sunday evening. Just put your wits to work, my friend. To begin with, Sanson T.'s wife and daughter were away in St. Louis. That was real convenient. Then the money disappeared from the thief-proof safe just at the time when it was to have been paid up to clear off the debt--that was equally convenient. I'm told that the thieves attacked him when Sanson opened the door to go out to meeting. But did any one ever know a respectable citizen go out to meeting with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and without his hat? Or would he go out leaving the key of the safe on the open desk table? Then the stupefying effects of chloroform would not certainly last more than an hour, although the sickly smell of the drug would linger about the closed room for quite twelve."

"Say, Kiddie," Rube interrupted, "you've gotten on this yer crime problem the same's you'd track a wild critter in the woods. Seems ter me, you've run that critter right into its lair. All you've been sayin's as clear's the water in the lake. I c'n see the bottom plain, an' I figure it up as thar wasn't no burglary at all, thar wasn't no masked men or chloroform. Sanson T. Wrangler made the whole thing up ter cover his own tracks, an' the only thief in the case was Sanson T. Wrangler hisself."

"Exactly," nodded Kiddie.

"Shake!" cried Isa Blagg, thrusting out his hand. "You're sure right, Kiddie; plumb right, you are. You've gotten straight's a die to the very innards of the problem. The hull evidence supports your theory. Here's me, a perfessional lawyer, so ter speak, bin puzzlin' my head over that alleged crime f'r days on end, an' never c'd make top nor tail of it; an' you, settin' idle at this yer camp fire, have solved it as easy an' as slick 's you might cipher out a sum in simple arithmetic."

Kiddie shrugged his shoulders.

"It's merely the application of common sense to a very ordinary proposition," he said.

"Kiddie don't jump at no rash conclusions," observed Rube Carter. "Trainin' in scout-craft has sharpened his wits at ev'ry point. He follers th' evidence of a crime same 's he'd foller on the tracks of a wild critter of the woods."

"Exactly," Kiddie nodded. "There's no difference."

"He looks at a thing all round an' through an' through 'fore he fixes up his mind about it," Rube went on, addressing the sheriff. "You an' me, Isa, we ain't built the same 's Kiddie. We ain't so slick or so clever at analysin'. Because a galoot like this yer Sanson T. Wrangler happens along an' says he's bin robbed, you never waits t' inquire if he's tellin' the truth. You dash off on a false trail t' arrest a innercent man. Kiddie has a way o' workin' that's all his own, an' if he don't allus hit the bull's-eye fust shot, at least he never misses the target."

"I allow Kiddie's cute," acknowledged Isa. "He's got the sagacity of a Injun combined with the trained intelligence of a civilized human. If Kiddie wasn't so all-fired scrupulous about truth an' justice, he'd make a passable magistrate. But I reckon his ambitions don't lie in that direction."

The sheriff stood up and glanced towards his canoe.

"Guess it's 'bout time for me ter think of quittin'," he remarked.

"But you'll stop in camp with us to-night?" said Kiddie. "Now that you're through with that robbery problem, there's no occasion for hustle, an' I guess Rube c'n make you as comfortable 's if you were stayin' in a high-class Cincinnati hotel."

"Nothing would please me better'n to be your lordship's guest for a night," returned Isa. "I'm goin' ter stay. Th' experience of sleepin' on a island 'll be suthin' of a novelty. Thar's a spice of adventure about it that I appreciate. Gideon Birkenshaw 'll conclude I've located your camp. He won't worry any on my account. When shall I tell Gid you'll be home?"

"The time is not limited," returned Kiddie. "Rube and I are a long way from bein' tired of campin' out, and we've got 'most all we want. We ain't worryin' about letters or newspapers or any engagements or duties. We're havin' a real good holiday, an' it's goin' ter last as long as the fine weather holds. But I'll tell you what you c'n do for us, sheriff. You've got plenty of cargo space in that canoe, an' we've some green pelts--the skins of critters we've trapped--that you c'n take back with you. Abe Harum knows what to do with 'em."

"Figurin' ter make this yer island your headquarters, I guess?" observed Isa.

"No," Kiddie answered, glancing aside at Rube. "We've exhausted the interests of the island. Rube has an idea he'd like t' explore some of those dark an' dismal cañons on the far side of the lake. We're only waitin' until he makes up his mind which one to choose."

"Then we've no need ter hang around much longer," said Rube, "for I've fixed on Lone Wolf Cañon. There's a strong appeal in the name of Lone Wolf."

"Gives promise of romantic solitood, don't it?" mused the sheriff. "I'm not hankerin' after solitoods, myself. For real enjoyment, give me Brierley's saloon in Laramie on a Saturday night."

"Ah," rejoined Rube, "you never learnt the meanin' of campin' out. You ain't got the instincts of a scout, the same as Kiddie an' me. Don't suppose you even knows the name of the bird that's bin warblin' so sweet for the past half-hour in the tree over your head."

Isa turned and looked up into the tree.

"No," he said, "until you mentioned it, I wasn't aware that there was any warblin' in the programme."

"Don't you pay any heed to Rube, sheriff," Kiddie interposed. "It's a special hobby of his to know a bird by its notes. The songster you're listenin' to now is just a whip-poor-will. It starts every evening precisely at sunset. When it quits singing, we reckon it's time to crawl into our sleepin' bags."

Isa Blagg was in no hurry for the bird to cease its singing. Indeed, it was long after the usual bed-time when at length he consented to leave the bivouac fire.

On the following morning he awoke with alarm to find himself alone on the island. He searched for Kiddie and Rube, and was beginning to fear that they had marooned him, when at last he discovered them swimming far out in the lake, where he had never thought of looking for them. They were so far away that he supposed he would have ample time to prepare breakfast for them; but on going to the fire he found the kettle boiling, the clean plates set ready, and the cut bacon waiting in the frying-pan. He strode to the creek and saw that his canoe was already loaded with the neatly-packed pelts that he was to take with him to Birkenshaw's.

"Gee!" he said to himself. "Never seen such a pair as them two in all my days. I ain't in it. They gets in front o' me every time!"

"We didn't ask you to come out and have a swim with us, Isa," greeted Kiddie as he stepped ashore.

"No use if you had done, Kiddie," returned Isa. "I never been in deep water in my life. None the less, I've gotten a healthy appetite for that bacon. Sleepin' on a island suits me. I'm real glad I came."

He paddled off in his canoe immediately after breakfast, when also Kiddie and Rube prepared to break camp.