CHAPTER LIII.Another MurderCanneziano did not come down for breakfast the following morning. I thought that a little strange, for meals were the one thing he had been real polite to ever since he had been on the Desert Moon.As soon as breakfast was over, Miss MacDonald spoke to Sam and asked him, as she had asked him that first morning, if she might detain him. “You, also, Mrs. Magin,” she smiled at me.“I wonder,” she said, as soon as we three were alone together, “if Mr. Canneziano could have given us the slip, last night?”“Not likely, with ten of the boys all drawing wages for watching the place, and him in particular, is it?” Sam questioned.“Not at all likely. Still. . . . Will you go and see whether or not he is in his room, now, Mr. Stanley?”Sam went. When he came back he had to drawl a lot more than usual to keep his voice steady. “His door is locked. He doesn’t answer when I pound on it.”Miss MacDonald said, “I have an excellent pass key. Let’s go up and try it.”Curiosity dragged me along with her and Sam, though every bone in my body protested.Miss MacDonald’s key unlocked the door. The three of us went into the room.The blinds were tightly drawn. The electric fan was whirring and buzzing away in the gray gloom.Miss MacDonald crossed the room, quickly, and snapped up the blinds. There was one long, hard, dusty shaft of yellow sunlight. Sam walked through it to the bed where Canneziano was lying, huddled up under the covers. I looked the other way.I heard the rattle of Sam’s pipe as it fell on the floor. I heard the rustle of Miss MacDonald’s quick movement. I heard a queer, throaty note that she uttered. Something dragged my hot, aching eyes open. I looked toward the bed. I saw Canneziano’s swollen, discolored face. I saw the deep yellow throat, with great brutal bruises at its base. The shaft of sunlight moved up and down, up and down, carving through the swaying blackness like a long sharp knife.I felt Sam’s strong hands on my shoulders, pressing me down into a chair. I heard myself saying, shrilly, over and over, “What are we going to do? What are we going to do?”It was Miss MacDonald’s voice, cold and clear as spring water that brought me to my senses. “We are going to find the murderer on the Desert Moon Ranch.”Sam said, “You’re damn right we are. And we are going to have half a dozen he-men detectives on this place by to-morrow night.”“Very well,” Miss MacDonald answered. “Will you telephone, at once, for the coroner, Mr. Stanley?”“Hell!” Sam said.I had my face covered; but there was a hollowness in that oath of Sam’s that told me, plainer than any looking at him could have told me, that he was frightened; scared to the marrow of his bones.It took Miss MacDonald, though, to understand the reason for his fear.“Yes, Mr. Stanley,” she said, “these men, when they come this time, in spite of their friendship for you, are not going to be as easily satisfied as they were last time. They were able to blink at one murder. They can’t keep on blinking. They dare not—even in Nevada.”“Who wants them to blink?” Sam bluffed.“You do. We all do, for the present.”Sam did not answer that. He stood, and looked stupid.“Won’t you listen to reason,” she urged, “before you go downstairs to telegraph for other detectives? In talking to you this way, I am putting all of my pride behind me, and I am violating my own code of professional ethics; so I want to say, first, that if you will allow me to remain on this case, I’ll take not one cent in payment. Wait—— Let me have my say out, and then you may have yours. My motives are not entirely unselfish—motives seldom are. For one thing, I have never been dismissed from a case. It is a humiliation I would pay any price to avoid. I have other reasons—but no matter. That is my side of it.“Your side of it is this. If, when the coroner and the others arrive to-day, you confess that no progress has been made, they will undoubtedly step in and take matters into their own bungling hands. I think that they would make an arrest. That would be fatal, now. For I am positive that they would arrest an innocent person, and that the guilty person would then have an excellent opportunity for escape.“I have a certain reputation, Mr. Stanley, and these men—particularly the sheriff—respect it. If you will keep me on this case, I will tell them that I am making definite progress. That I believe I shall be able to turn the criminal over to the state within a comparatively short time——”“Would that be the truth?” Sam demanded.She hesitated. “If you mean, is that what I believe now—my answer is yes. I may be wrong. I have, at least, a very definite suspicion. I have no proofs.”“You wouldn’t,” Sam questioned, “give these men that assurance if you knew that I was going to get some men detectives up here to work with you?”“I couldn’t,” she said. “I can speak only for myself. I do not, can not work with detectives not of my own choosing. I would give any one you brought here my notes—the definite results of my investigations so far. I would have no right, now, to give him anything else.”“In other words,” Sam said, “you don’t care a whoop about having the murderer discovered unless you can do the discovering yourself, and get the credit for it?”“Sam Stanley!” I said.Her cheeks flamed. “Please get your other detectives here as soon as possible, if you wish them to consult with me before I leave for San Francisco.”John’s voice came calling down the hall. “Dad? Are you up here?”“Wait!” Miss MacDonald commanded. “Tell him to wait a moment.”Sam opened the door a crack. “I’ll be with you in a minute, son.” He closed the door, and stood looking questions at Miss MacDonald.She walked quickly across the room, and stopped close to Sam, facing him. “I’m sorry I lost my temper, just now. I’m not going, unless you force me to go. Please don’t. Please give me my chance. Do you realize what it means to be tried for a murder, even if one is acquitted? I am not asking this for myself. I wouldn’t stoop to beg for anything for myself as I am begging for this, now. I am sure you mean to be a fair man. Be fair to me, and to all of the innocent people here on your ranch. I don’t say that other detectives might not be able to discover the murderer. I do say that I am certain they would do irreparable harm before they succeeded. . . .”“If you stayed,” Sam had the cheek to question, “and worked along with them—that was my idea—couldn’t you prevent their doing any harm?”“I could try to. I will try to, if you insist. But I am doubtful of my success. Consciously, or unconsciously they work against me, because I am a woman. You don’t know them as I do. You don’t know their methods, as I do. If you feel that you must have others here, working on the case, allow me to send, at my own expense, for my own assistants; the girls whom I have trained——”“We don’t need any more girls around here,” Sam said. “It is pretty certain that we do need someone to protect the lives of all of us on this place——”“When you telephone for the coroner,” she said, “won’t you telephone for a locksmith to come out with him, and bring strong bolts for all the doors——”“You admit, then, that we are all in danger?”“Nothing of the sort. You are all perfectly safe—at present. I do believe that before long, my own life may be in danger. I want no one to think that I suspect that. I need the protection of the bolts. It must seem that I think that everyone needs the protection.”“You believe,” Sam questioned, “that your own life is in danger. And yet——”“Please re-consider, Mr. Stanley. Please allow me to have the case alone, at any rate for a little while longer.”“Game!” Sam had muttered it to himself, but I had heard it. I knew that she had won, for the present, at any rate.“You honestly think,” he questioned, “that you can manage this single handed, and keep us all safe, and produce this murderer—pretty shortly?”“I do, Mr. Stanley.”“And you honestly think that other detectives coming here now might make a peck of trouble, arrest the wrong person, and mess things up generally?”“I have never been more certain of anything. I think the fact that you dismissed me, now, and sent for others, would be damning evidence against innocence, to the men from Telko.“Let me meet them, in my professional capacity, to-day, Mr. Stanley. Let me meet them, not as a failure, but as a person confident of success. I know that I can manage them, and send them away satisfied. Mary, can’t you say something? Won’t you help me to persuade Mr. Stanley?”“You don’t need any help,” I told her. “He’s persuaded.”“Is that true, Mr. Stanley? May I have the case alone, for a little while longer?” She was all breathless with eagerness.“Drat it all, yes,” Sam said. “I’m damned if I know what I ought to do. But you are dead game. I—— Well, shake on it, Miss MacDonald. You’ll do the best you can for us, I know that.”The hand she held out to him was trembling, and her voice as she thanked him trembled. But still I was amazed when, right after Sam had gone out of the room, she said to me, “Mary, I believe on my soul that I have just had an experience that is too strong for me,” and hid her face in the crook of her arm and began to cry.
Canneziano did not come down for breakfast the following morning. I thought that a little strange, for meals were the one thing he had been real polite to ever since he had been on the Desert Moon.
As soon as breakfast was over, Miss MacDonald spoke to Sam and asked him, as she had asked him that first morning, if she might detain him. “You, also, Mrs. Magin,” she smiled at me.
“I wonder,” she said, as soon as we three were alone together, “if Mr. Canneziano could have given us the slip, last night?”
“Not likely, with ten of the boys all drawing wages for watching the place, and him in particular, is it?” Sam questioned.
“Not at all likely. Still. . . . Will you go and see whether or not he is in his room, now, Mr. Stanley?”
Sam went. When he came back he had to drawl a lot more than usual to keep his voice steady. “His door is locked. He doesn’t answer when I pound on it.”
Miss MacDonald said, “I have an excellent pass key. Let’s go up and try it.”
Curiosity dragged me along with her and Sam, though every bone in my body protested.
Miss MacDonald’s key unlocked the door. The three of us went into the room.
The blinds were tightly drawn. The electric fan was whirring and buzzing away in the gray gloom.
Miss MacDonald crossed the room, quickly, and snapped up the blinds. There was one long, hard, dusty shaft of yellow sunlight. Sam walked through it to the bed where Canneziano was lying, huddled up under the covers. I looked the other way.
I heard the rattle of Sam’s pipe as it fell on the floor. I heard the rustle of Miss MacDonald’s quick movement. I heard a queer, throaty note that she uttered. Something dragged my hot, aching eyes open. I looked toward the bed. I saw Canneziano’s swollen, discolored face. I saw the deep yellow throat, with great brutal bruises at its base. The shaft of sunlight moved up and down, up and down, carving through the swaying blackness like a long sharp knife.
I felt Sam’s strong hands on my shoulders, pressing me down into a chair. I heard myself saying, shrilly, over and over, “What are we going to do? What are we going to do?”
It was Miss MacDonald’s voice, cold and clear as spring water that brought me to my senses. “We are going to find the murderer on the Desert Moon Ranch.”
Sam said, “You’re damn right we are. And we are going to have half a dozen he-men detectives on this place by to-morrow night.”
“Very well,” Miss MacDonald answered. “Will you telephone, at once, for the coroner, Mr. Stanley?”
“Hell!” Sam said.
I had my face covered; but there was a hollowness in that oath of Sam’s that told me, plainer than any looking at him could have told me, that he was frightened; scared to the marrow of his bones.
It took Miss MacDonald, though, to understand the reason for his fear.
“Yes, Mr. Stanley,” she said, “these men, when they come this time, in spite of their friendship for you, are not going to be as easily satisfied as they were last time. They were able to blink at one murder. They can’t keep on blinking. They dare not—even in Nevada.”
“Who wants them to blink?” Sam bluffed.
“You do. We all do, for the present.”
Sam did not answer that. He stood, and looked stupid.
“Won’t you listen to reason,” she urged, “before you go downstairs to telegraph for other detectives? In talking to you this way, I am putting all of my pride behind me, and I am violating my own code of professional ethics; so I want to say, first, that if you will allow me to remain on this case, I’ll take not one cent in payment. Wait—— Let me have my say out, and then you may have yours. My motives are not entirely unselfish—motives seldom are. For one thing, I have never been dismissed from a case. It is a humiliation I would pay any price to avoid. I have other reasons—but no matter. That is my side of it.
“Your side of it is this. If, when the coroner and the others arrive to-day, you confess that no progress has been made, they will undoubtedly step in and take matters into their own bungling hands. I think that they would make an arrest. That would be fatal, now. For I am positive that they would arrest an innocent person, and that the guilty person would then have an excellent opportunity for escape.
“I have a certain reputation, Mr. Stanley, and these men—particularly the sheriff—respect it. If you will keep me on this case, I will tell them that I am making definite progress. That I believe I shall be able to turn the criminal over to the state within a comparatively short time——”
“Would that be the truth?” Sam demanded.
She hesitated. “If you mean, is that what I believe now—my answer is yes. I may be wrong. I have, at least, a very definite suspicion. I have no proofs.”
“You wouldn’t,” Sam questioned, “give these men that assurance if you knew that I was going to get some men detectives up here to work with you?”
“I couldn’t,” she said. “I can speak only for myself. I do not, can not work with detectives not of my own choosing. I would give any one you brought here my notes—the definite results of my investigations so far. I would have no right, now, to give him anything else.”
“In other words,” Sam said, “you don’t care a whoop about having the murderer discovered unless you can do the discovering yourself, and get the credit for it?”
“Sam Stanley!” I said.
Her cheeks flamed. “Please get your other detectives here as soon as possible, if you wish them to consult with me before I leave for San Francisco.”
John’s voice came calling down the hall. “Dad? Are you up here?”
“Wait!” Miss MacDonald commanded. “Tell him to wait a moment.”
Sam opened the door a crack. “I’ll be with you in a minute, son.” He closed the door, and stood looking questions at Miss MacDonald.
She walked quickly across the room, and stopped close to Sam, facing him. “I’m sorry I lost my temper, just now. I’m not going, unless you force me to go. Please don’t. Please give me my chance. Do you realize what it means to be tried for a murder, even if one is acquitted? I am not asking this for myself. I wouldn’t stoop to beg for anything for myself as I am begging for this, now. I am sure you mean to be a fair man. Be fair to me, and to all of the innocent people here on your ranch. I don’t say that other detectives might not be able to discover the murderer. I do say that I am certain they would do irreparable harm before they succeeded. . . .”
“If you stayed,” Sam had the cheek to question, “and worked along with them—that was my idea—couldn’t you prevent their doing any harm?”
“I could try to. I will try to, if you insist. But I am doubtful of my success. Consciously, or unconsciously they work against me, because I am a woman. You don’t know them as I do. You don’t know their methods, as I do. If you feel that you must have others here, working on the case, allow me to send, at my own expense, for my own assistants; the girls whom I have trained——”
“We don’t need any more girls around here,” Sam said. “It is pretty certain that we do need someone to protect the lives of all of us on this place——”
“When you telephone for the coroner,” she said, “won’t you telephone for a locksmith to come out with him, and bring strong bolts for all the doors——”
“You admit, then, that we are all in danger?”
“Nothing of the sort. You are all perfectly safe—at present. I do believe that before long, my own life may be in danger. I want no one to think that I suspect that. I need the protection of the bolts. It must seem that I think that everyone needs the protection.”
“You believe,” Sam questioned, “that your own life is in danger. And yet——”
“Please re-consider, Mr. Stanley. Please allow me to have the case alone, at any rate for a little while longer.”
“Game!” Sam had muttered it to himself, but I had heard it. I knew that she had won, for the present, at any rate.
“You honestly think,” he questioned, “that you can manage this single handed, and keep us all safe, and produce this murderer—pretty shortly?”
“I do, Mr. Stanley.”
“And you honestly think that other detectives coming here now might make a peck of trouble, arrest the wrong person, and mess things up generally?”
“I have never been more certain of anything. I think the fact that you dismissed me, now, and sent for others, would be damning evidence against innocence, to the men from Telko.
“Let me meet them, in my professional capacity, to-day, Mr. Stanley. Let me meet them, not as a failure, but as a person confident of success. I know that I can manage them, and send them away satisfied. Mary, can’t you say something? Won’t you help me to persuade Mr. Stanley?”
“You don’t need any help,” I told her. “He’s persuaded.”
“Is that true, Mr. Stanley? May I have the case alone, for a little while longer?” She was all breathless with eagerness.
“Drat it all, yes,” Sam said. “I’m damned if I know what I ought to do. But you are dead game. I—— Well, shake on it, Miss MacDonald. You’ll do the best you can for us, I know that.”
The hand she held out to him was trembling, and her voice as she thanked him trembled. But still I was amazed when, right after Sam had gone out of the room, she said to me, “Mary, I believe on my soul that I have just had an experience that is too strong for me,” and hid her face in the crook of her arm and began to cry.