Part 16 (2/2)
”What made you think of searching the place again? Anything in the last instructions you got from Regina? You didn't show them to me.”
”That's so. It isn't a part of my duty to consult you, and you're a bit of a hustler. However, this is what I heard--a land agent in Navarino sent for the district sergeant; told him he'd run across a man from Sebastian at the hotel and the fellow got talking about Jernyngham. It was the first the land agent had heard of the matter; but he was struck by the date on which Jernyngham disappeared, because he'd had a deal with him three days later.”
”That's mighty strange. If he's right, Jernyngham couldn't have been killed.”
”Don't hustle!” said Curtis. ”The fellow showed the sergeant the sale record, but he described Jernyngham as a big, rather stout man with light hair.”
”Wandle!” exclaimed Stanton. ”Are you going to arrest him?”
”Not yet. We might get him sent up for fraud and forgery, but if he had anything to do with knocking Jernyngham out, he'll be more likely to give us a clue of some kind while he's at large.”
They rode on and reaching Wandle's farm searched the house carefully, replacing everything exactly as they found it. They discovered nothing of importance, but as they went out Curtis glanced at the ash and refuse heap.
”We might have thought of that earlier,” he said. ”I've heard of people trying to burn up things it might be dangerous to leave about.”
Setting to work with a fork and shovel, they presently unearthed a rusty iron object which Stanton picked up.
”Looks like a big meat can,” he remarked. ”Kind of curious that Wandle should double it over this way and flatten it down.”
Curtis took it from him and examined it carefully.
”It isn't a meat can; top edges are turned over a wire--here's a bit sticking out--and it's had a handle. There's a hinge in another place.
The thing has been a box--a cash-box, I guess--one of the rubbishy kind they sell for about a dollar.”
”But what would make a man smash up his cash-box?”
”I don't know; guess it doesn't apply. I could understand his wanting to get rid of one that belonged to somebody else, after he'd cleaned it out.
Aren't you beginning to understand?”
”Sure,” said Stanton eagerly. ”The box was Jernyngham's--we'll find out when he bought it at the hardware store. Then we'll get after Wandle.”
”You hustle too much!” Curtis rebuked him, and then sat down with knitted brows. ”Now see here--in a general way, it's convictions we're out for; you want to count on your verdict before you arrest a man. It comes to this: he's tried first by us, and if he's to be let off, it saves trouble if we decide the thing, instead of leaving it to the jury. They won't tell you that at Regina, but, in practise, you'll find that a police trooper is expected to use some judgment. Still, there are exceptions to what I've said about holding back. In the interests of justice, one might have to corral an innocent man.”
”How's that going to serve the interests of justice?”
The corporal's eyes twinkled with dry amus.e.m.e.nt.
”For one thing, it might lead the fellow we were really after to think we hadn't struck his trail. But that's not the point. How much ash would you figure Wandle takes out of his stove each time he lights it?”
”About a bucketful, burning wood.”
”Not quite, but there's a bucket yonder. See how many times you can fill it with the stuff we shoveled off, while I take a smoke. Build up the pile to look as if we hadn't disturbed it.”
Stanton did as he was bidden, counting each bucketful he replaced, and then Curtis sent him to clean out the stove and estimate the quant.i.ty of ash before he put it back. Then he made a calculation.
”Allowing for some of the ash slipping down the pile and for our having moved a little that was there before Wandle threw the cash-box in, it fixes the time he did so pretty close to Jernyngham's disappearance,” he remarked. ”Looks bad against the Austrian, doesn't it?”
”You have quite as much against Prescott.”
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