Part 37 (1/2)

”That's good. Show 'em what you have, daughter.”

Mary drew a knotted handkerchief from her bosom and undid the knots.

Appeared the doubled paper she had found. This she pa.s.sed to Janet.

”Why,--why, this is the doc.u.ment I had!” the latter exclaimed, joyfully. ”Where did you find it?”

”Up by the smashed automobile, when father and I were at the cabin.”

She exchanged a guarded look with her father. ”There are names in it that made me think it might be valuable. So when father came back from Bowenville I showed it to him. But neither of us could read it. We thought we'd better bring it to you to read.”

”It is valuable, very valuable. I had it when I was seized by Ed Sorenson and he took it away from me. Evidently, then, it fell from his pocket at the time of the accident. Yes, indeed, it's important.

It means everything to certain parties. I'll read it, but you understand what it tells is private at present.”

”We understand--and I think I know what it's going to say,” Johnson remarked, grimly.

Thereupon while the others listened Janet read a translation of the long doc.u.ment. To her and her father the facts were not new, for Weir had already related such as he knew of the happenings in Vorse's saloon on that eventful day thirty years previous. Nor for that matter were they strange to Johnson and his daughter, though of course neither Janet nor her father were aware of the rancher's more intimate knowledge of the subject.

”A pretty good story as far as it goes, but like all lawyers' papers long-winded,” Johnson stated, critically.

”What do you mean, far as it goes?” Janet asked, curiously. ”Did you know this old Mexican? Did you ever hear him tell about the thing?”

”I knew he was there at the time, but he never told me anything.”

Here Dr. Hosmer spoke.

”Saurez died yesterday. It must have been shortly after he made this deposition. He died in Vorse's saloon, which gives a color of suspicion to his death. In addition, Martinez, as you know, was dragged away somewhere.”

”Then Vorse learned old Saurez had blabbed, and killed him,” Johnson said, in a convinced tone. ”Vorse is a bad bird, I want to say. But so are all of them, Sorenson, Burkhardt and Judge Gordon as well.”

Janet brought the talk back to the subject.

”You make me still wonder, Mr. Johnson,” she said. ”You seemed to think there's more to the account than is told in this paper.”

Again the rancher and his daughter glanced at each other, hesitatingly.

”Tell them, father,” Mary broke forth all at once. ”They know this much, and you know you can trust them.”

The man, however, shook his head with a certain dogged purpose.

”If this is just a paper in some trifling lawsuit or other, it will be better if I keep my own counsel,” he stated. ”I've riled Sorenson considerable as it is now, and I don't care particularly about having him gunning on my trail active-like. If it really mattered----”

”It does matter; it matters everything,” Janet cried, ”if you really know something more!”

”Why?”

”Because it concerns Mr. Weir. The Joseph Weir described and named in this affidavit was his father. He believes these men robbed his father; this paper proves it, but not absolutely, for Mexican evidence here in this country doesn't carry as much weight against white men--especially men as rich and strong as these named--as it would in other places perhaps. You know that. This paper was obtained for Mr.

Weir.”

”Oho, so that's the way of it!” Johnson said, with a long drawn-out tone.