"Watson, I hope you know nothing of this work?"
"Of course I know something of it," he answered quickly. "I returned
in charge of the dead body of the messenger. I was in the next car
when he was killed, and one of the robbers put his pistol to my head
and threatened to blow my brains out if I said or did anything. You
can just bet I kept mighty still."
"I should think so. This'll make a tremendous stir," returned the
woman. "The country'll be full of man-trackers and it'll go hard with
the outlaws if they're captured."
"You bet; but they won't be captured." "You are confident?"
"I've a right to be. I---"
Then the young man ceased to speak suddenly, and his face became
deeply suffused.
The woman sprang up then and went to the young man's side, laying her
hand on his shoulder.
"Watson, tell me truly that you don't know who committed this crime."
"Bother!" and he flung her hand from his shoulder with an impatient
movement. "I hope you ain't going to turn good all to once, Madge
Scarlet. I tell you, thirty thousand dollars ain't to be sneezed at,
and I do need money--but of course _I_ don't know a thing about who
did it, of course not; but I can tell you one thing, old lady, Dyke
Barrel is on the trail, and he is even now in Chicago.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25