CHAPTER XII. HIBBARD WEAKENS.

Clancy was mightily relieved to know that Fortune had not only kept himself from being injured, but had also covered himself with glory by saving the five thousand dollars.

“Good for you, Jimmie!” Clancy exclaimed. “How did you ever manage to get away with that bag of money?”

“Plumb easy!” returned Fortune, swaggering into the room. “I was waitin’ under the open winder, where you left me, Clancy, and I was all of a shake on account o’ hearin’ that revolver shot. While I was still in a quiver, them cimiroons drapped the money out and started to foller it. I jumped for the bag. While I was pickin’ it up, one of the junipers fell on me. We had a mix, but I tore loose and sloped for the iron fence. Say, I got over that fence with about six feet in the clear. Then I ran till I was clean winded. By then, I allowed it was safe to turn around and come back. I was in sight when some o’ you came in the front door--so I trailed along. Jedge,” and he turned to Pembroke, “allow me to fork over the missin’ dinero!” With that, he placed the bag in the judge’s hand.

“Explain this to me,” said the judge. “With so many of you concerned in what happened it is a little difficult to follow the sequence of events. Clancy, how did you and Fortune come to learn that my house was to be robbed?”

Clancy explained, and in that explanation he did his friend full credit. Fortune, however, put in a few words to the effect that Clancy’s brains in following up the clew, helped out more than any work of his own.

“I stumble onto a heap o’ things,” observed Jimmie, grinning, “but I ain’t got the sabe to figger ’em out. My red-headed pard is the feller who does that.”

During Clancy’s recital the fact had developed that Fortune was occupying Clancy’s bed at the rear of the garage when Hibbard and Tom Long came hunting for the note. This was a revelation which Hibbard listened to with wide eyes.

“Thunder!” he exclaimed disgustedly. “I deserve all that’s comin’ to me for makin’ that bobble!”

“Hibbard,” said the judge, sternly facing the chauffeur, “this is pretty bad business for you. I suppose you know what this means to you?”

“I’m not doing any sobbing,” snarled Hibbard. “Put on the screws--I reckon I can stand it.”

“Give him the limit, dad,” urged Larry. “He deserves it--treating you like this after the way you’ve treated him for the past six months.”

The judge frowned at his son.

“You knew, did you, Hibbard,” he went on to the chauffeur, “that I was expecting to get this five thousand from Prescott for the sale of a ranch there?”

“Sure, I knew it!”

“You thought I’d gone to Prescott after the money, but you did not know that the purchaser of the ranch brought it to Phoenix to me, and that I received it after banking hours?”

“I didn’t know that, but I figgered that you couldn’t return from Prescott till after the bank had closed, and would have to keep the money in the study safe,” answered Hibbard. “The only difference your not goin’ to Prescott made, was that you caught me out with the car.”

“You slipped off to tell Chantay Seeche Tom about the money and to get his help in robbing me?”

“I’m not goin’ to talk.”

“Hibbard,” said the judge, “I don’t want to be hard on you. Make a clean breast of everything, and I’ll let you go. You’ve got a father and mother in Mesa, and they’re good friends of mine. I don’t want to do anything to bring disgrace upon them. But,” and the judge’s face grew stern, “I’ll put you through for this if you don’t tell me everything about the affair.”

A gleam of hope flickered in the chauffeur’s eyes.

“Do you mean that, judge?” he asked.

“I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean,” was the quiet reply.

“Then ask your questions, and I’ll come across with straight answers.”

“You sneaked out of town to get Chantay Seeche Tom to help you rob me?”

“Yes. Tom was to come in to Phoenix and meet me at the Palace. After that, we were to get the note from Clancy and make a grab for your five thousand.”

“Why were you going to get the note from Clancy?”

“Because Rockwell offered me two hundred dollars for it.”

“Rockwell?” burst from Clancy. “Do you mean to say that Rockwell hired you to steal that note from me?”

“That’s what I mean to say,” said Hibbard.

“Why?” asked the judge. “What was his reason?”

“He don’t want to pay the note. If Clancy hasn’t got it, how can he collect on it?”

“Oh, he’s a shark, Uncle Si is,” struck in Fortune. “That’s what I told Red. Maybe he’ll believe me, now.”

The judge turned to Clancy.

“It was an unindorsed note?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Clancy, “it was a note for a thousand dollars, given to my father. I came to Phoenix to collect it. Rockwell said the note was all right, and that he would get the money together, in a week or two, and take it up. Meanwhile, I was to work in his garage at fifty dollars a month.”

“That was just a scheme,” put in Hibbard, “to get Clancy in a place where it would be easy to take the note away from him.”

“And you and Chantay Seeche Tom,” said Larry, with a laugh, “tied up the wrong fellow, and couldn’t find the note!”

“That’s where they got fooled!” chuckled Fortune. “I was all wrapped up in a blanket, and they didn’t know the difference between me and my pard. Funniest thing that ever happened; only it wasn’t so blame’ funny for me while it was happenin’.”

“Clancy,” said the judge, “you had better let me take that note and keep it for you. To-morrow I’ll see that you get justice from this scoundrel, Rockwell. I owe you that, and more.”

Clancy had made a powerful friend. He realized that, and was quick to take the note from the wallet and put it in the hands of Judge Pembroke.

“I’m sorry,” went on the judge, “that you agreed to work for Rockwell and turned down my offer. I hired a driver an hour after I left you----”

Jimmie gave a hollow groan.

“And here was me, bankin’ on gettin’ that job!” he wailed. “Oh, jedge, this here is what I call blame’ tough!”

“Maybe I can do something for you,” said the judge, smiling, “or do something for Clancy so he can help you. I’ll come to the Red Star Garage to-morrow morning, at ten. Meet me there, Clancy, and we’ll see what can be done.”

“I’ll be there, judge,” answered Clancy, “and I’ll be mighty grateful for anything you can do that will help me.”

“I’ll wring that thousand dollars out of Rockwell, you may be sure of that.” The judge once more turned to Hibbard. “How did you and Long Tom get into the safe? You didn’t blow it open.”

“Worked the combination. You had the combination changed, a spell ago, and I stole the paper from your pocketbook, one day, when I had you out in the car. After I copied the number, I put the paper back in the pocketbook, and got the leather into your pocket again without your knowin’.”

“Hibbard,” observed the judge, more in sorrow than in anger, “you’re a bad one! You’ve gone down grade pretty fast since you went to work for me and had dealings with Rockwell.”

“Any one will hit the toboggan that gets mixed up with Rockwell,” declared Hibbard. “Anything else you want to know, judge?”

“No, Hibbard; you can go. For the sake of your people, I hope you will live a different life from now on.”

He pointed to the door, and Dirk Hibbard, with head bowed, passed through it and out of the house.