Part 42 (1/2)
HOLT FREES HIS MIND
Macdonald whirled in his tracks.
Old Gid Holt was leaning on his elbow with his head out of the window.
”You better come and beat me up first, Mac,” he jeered. ”I'm all stove up with a busted laig, so you can wollop me good. I'd come out there, but I'm too crippled to move.”
”You're not too crippled to go back to Kusiak with me. If you can't walk, you'll ride. But back you go.”
”Fine. I been worrying about how to get there. It's right good of you to bring one of these here taxis for me, as the old sayin' is.”
”Where is the rest of the gold you stole?”
”I ain't seen the latest papers, Mac. What is this stuff about robbin' a bank and shootin' Milton?”
”You're under arrest for robbery and murder.”
”Am I? Unload the particulars. When did I do it all?”
”You know when. Just before you left town.”
Holt shook his head slowly. ”No, sir. I can't seem to remember it. Sure it ain't some one else you're thinking about? Howcome you to fix on me as one of the bold, bad bandits?”
”Because you had not sense enough to cover your tracks. You might just as well have left a note saying you did it. First, you come to town and buy one of the fastest dog teams in Alaska. Why?”
”That's an easy one. I bought that team to win the Alaska Sweepstakes from you. And I'm goin' to do it. The team wasn't handled right or it would have won last time. I got to millin' it over and figured that old Gid Holt was the dog puncher that could land those huskies in front.
See?”
”You bought it to make your getaway after the robbery,” retorted Macdonald.
”It's a difference of opinion makes horse-races. What else have you got against us?”
”We found in your room one of the sacks that had held the gold you took from the bank.”
”That's right. I took it from the bank in the afternoon, where I had had it on deposit, to pay for the team I bought. Milton's books will show that. But you didn't find any sack I took when your bank was robbed--if it was robbed,” added the old man significantly.
”Of course, I knew you would have an alibi. Have you got one to explain why you left town so suddenly the night the bank was robbed? Milton was killed after midnight. Before morning you and your friend Elliot routed out Ackroyd and bought a lot of supplies from him for a hurry-up trip.
You slipped around to the corral and hit the trail right into the blizzard. Will you tell me why you were in such a hurry to get away, if it wasn't to escape from the town where you had murdered a decent old fellow who never had harmed a soul?”
”Sure I'll tell you.” The black eyes of the little man snapped eagerly.
”I came so p. d. q. because that side pardner of mine Gordon Elliot wouldn't let me wait till mornin'. He had a reason for leavin' town that wouldn't wait a minute, one big enough to drive him right into the heart of the blizzard. Me, I tagged along.”
”I can guess his reason,” jeered the Scotchman. ”But I'd like to hear you put a name to it.”
Holt grinned maliciously and waved a hand toward the girl who was pillowing the head of her lover. ”The name of his reason is Sheba O'Neill, but it's goin' to be Sheba Elliot soon, looks like.”
”You mean--”