Chapter 22
RUBE CARTER'S THEORY--AND KIDDIE'S
"To begin with, then," said Rube, "Nick Undrell knew about your valuables--knew that you kept 'em here in your cabin; and he coveted them. He'd made up his mind weeks ago to get hold of 'em. He admitted as much to you yourself, an' he put you off suspectin' him by makin' out that he'd started on a new trail by givin' up drink an' gamblin' and thievin'. That's where he was artful. Then he knew that you'd gone away on a campin'-out trip. We've bin told as he's bin spyin' around here an' tryin' to make friends with the dog.
"Naturally, he didn't know just when we should be back. Anyhow, he reckoned that last night would be safe, there bein' no moonlight. In case he should be heard movin' through the bush, he took the loan of our spare canoe an' dropped along silent by water. I'm figurin' that he calculated on the dog knowin' him an' not barkin'. But he wanted ter make sure, an' he crept up towards the kennel.
"Sheila was free; she wasn't chained up or locked in; an' she met him. Whether she fawned on him or attacked him, an' so got that thread of yaller wool on her claw don't greatly signify, though I guess she attacked him, an' he shot her dead, going up to her afterwards t' make sure, an' leavin' his footprint."
Kiddie nodded in satisfaction at the boy's narrative.
"And then?" he said.
"Then Nick made a bee-line for the cabin, broke the pane of glass, opened the winder, an' crawled in. Here he collected all the valuables he c'd lay his hands on--money, trinkets, jewels--hundreds and hundreds of dollars' worth, an' packed the lot into the gunny sack that he found in that there corner."
"Ah, I didn't remember that gunny sack," said Kiddie. "I had wondered how the things were carried away. Well?"
"Well," continued Rube, "after that, he went through the sittin'-room t' escape by the front door. He looked around the room an' caught sight of the cigarettes and tobacco. Before decidin' which ter take, he thought he'd try one of the cigarettes, so he smoked one, leavin' the scent of it hangin' in the air. I reckon he enjoyed it, so he took the cigarettes an' left the pipe tobacco."
"They are very good cigarettes, I believe," commented Kiddie. "I've never smoked one myself."
"Still, I wonder at Nick Undrell leavin' all that tobacco on the shelf," put in Isa Blagg. "What d'you figure he did next, Rube? Went around to the stables, helped himself t' the best hoss thar, an' rode off, I should say."
"That's about it," concluded Rube.
"My theory exactly," declared the sheriff, "an' now I calculate the first thing t' do is ter get on Nick's tracks an' arrest him."
"Wait," said Kiddie. "There's one thing that Rube has not explained. What about the canoe? We found it tied up in Grizzly Notch. How did it get back there?"
"Ar-rum!" ejaculated Rube. "I forgot the canoe; but I suppose Nick took it back an' tied it up 'fore he went to the stable."
"Not at all," said Kiddie. "Your theory is wrong from beginnin' to end. The canoe was never used. The paddles were in the boat-house as dry as a bone. The tobacco pipe, the dead matches and the footprint were planted there purposely as a blind to put us on a false trail. I don't deny that the pipe was Nick Undrell's, or the boots, or that the threads of yellow worsted came from Nick's vest. But in spite of these clues, yes, even because of them, I believe that Nick Undrell had nothing to do with this robbery."
"Git!" exclaimed Isa Blagg, with a derisive laugh.
"S-shoo!" whispered Rube in amazement.
"You say you didn't touch the dead dog," pursued Kiddie, "didn't look into her eyes an' see how the pupils were dilated; didn't handle her limbs an' feel how rigid they were. You've seen many an animal killed with a bullet, Rube, but you never saw one lookin' as Sheila looks. Why? Because she wasn't shot. It was poison that killed her--a quick an' deadly poison, injected on the point of a dart, a spear, or, perhaps even an arrow. And the bootprint was made purposely by the man who went up to her to recover the weapon and to fix the thread of yellow worsted to her claw, just as he afterwards fixed the thread on the splinter of window glass, as an intentionally misleading clue. As to the cigarettes and tobacco, there need have been no hesitation. The cigarettes were taken in preference by a man who never smokes a pipe, but is peculiarly fond of cigarettes."
"Gee!" cried Rube. "You are clever, Kiddie."
Kiddie had disappeared into his bedroom. When he came out again some minutes afterwards, he was dressed as a western cowboy.
"Hullo!" exclaimed Rube. "Where're you off to?"
"Along to Laramie ter locate Nick Undrell," drawled Kiddie, fixing his six-shooter in his belt.
He hastened out to the stables, saddled and mounted a pony, and started off through the woodland towards the trail.
Hardly had he got out from among the trees when he heard the clattering of a horse's galloping feet. He dropped the bridle over his pony's head, leapt from his saddle, gathered the coils of his lariat in his fist, and crept to the side of the trail. The galloping horse came swiftly nearer. Kiddie peeped out over the edge of a boulder and recognized his own bay hunter Regent.
The rider's face was hidden under his wide hat, but as he raised his whip hand there was the gleam of a yellow and black striped vest. Kiddie gripped his lariat ready to throw, but he did not throw it. Instead, he whistled loud and shrill, and, as the horseman came abreast of him, he called out--
"Nick--Nick!"
Nick Undrell drew rein, and, swinging sharply round, rode up to Kiddie.
"The very man I wanted to see," said Kiddie, dropping his lariat, and seizing the hunter's palpitating muzzle in his hands. "Where is he, Nick?"
"He?" echoed Nick Undrell, with a laugh. "Well, if your lordship's referrin' ter Broken Feather, he's a prisoner in my shack, wearin' handcuffs an' a pair of my boots, an' with two o' my boys standin' over him with loaded revolvers. An' the boodle--the loot--the swag that the greasy skunk stole from your cabin last night, it's all fixed up right an' tight in Laramie Bank."