Part 24 (2/2)
”And Major McDonald,” he insisted, utterly ignoring the increasing anger of the officer beside her. ”Possibly you were aware of his departure?”
”Yes,” more deliberately; ”he told me of his orders, and bade me good-bye later. So far as Connors is concerned, he was to have the carriage here for us at two o'clock. Is that all, Mr. Sergeant Hamlin?”'
”You better make it all,” threatened the Captain belligerently, ”before I lose my temper at this infernal impertinence.”
Hamlin surveyed the two calmly, confident that the woman knew more than she would tell, and utterly indifferent as to the other.
”Very well,” he said quietly, ”I will learn what I desire elsewhere. I shall find Miss McDonald, and discover what has actually occurred.”
”My best wishes, I am sure,” and the lady patted the Captain's arm gently. ”We are losing this waltz.”
There was but one course for Hamlin to pursue. He had no trail to follow, only a vague suspicion that these plotters were in some way concerned in the mysterious disappearance. Thus far, however, they had left behind no clue to their partic.i.p.ation. Moreover he was seriously handicapped by ignorance of any motive. Why should they desire to gain possession of the girl? It could not be money, or the hope of ransom.
What then? Was it some accident which had involved her in the toils prepared for another? If so, were those unexpected orders for Major McDonald a part of the conspiracy, or had their receipt complicated the affair? The Sergeant was a soldier, not a detective, and could only follow a straight road in his investigation. He must circle widely until he found some trail to follow as patiently as an Indian. There would be tracks left somewhere, if he could only discover them. If this was a hasty occurrence, in any way an accident, something was sure to be left uncovered, some slip reveal the method. He would trace the movements of the father first, and then search the saloons and gambling dens for the two men. Though unsuccessful with Mrs. Dupont, he knew how to deal with such as they.
The stage agent was routed out of bed and came to the door, revolver in hand, startled and angry.
”Who?” he repeated. ”Major McDonald? How the h.e.l.l should I know?
Some officer went out--yes; heavy set man with a mustache. I did n't pay any attention to him; had government transportation. There were two other pa.s.sengers, both men, ranchers, I reckon; none in the station at all. What's that, Jane?”
A woman's voice spoke from out the darkness behind.
”Was the soldier asking if Major McDonald went East on the coach, Sam?”
”Sure; what do you know about it?”
”Why, I was outside when they started,” she explained, ”and the man in uniform was n't the Major. I know him by sight, for he 's been down here a dozen times when I was at the desk. This fellow was about his size, but dark and stoop-shouldered.”
”And the others?” asked Hamlin eagerly.
”I did n't know either of them, only I noticed one had a black beard.”
”A very large, burly fellow?”
”No, I don't think so. I did n't pay special attention to any of them, only to wonder who the officer was, 'cause I never remembered seein'
him here before at Dodge, but, as I recollect, the fellow with a beard was rather undersized; had a s.h.a.ggy buffalo-skin cap on.”
Plainly enough the man was not Dupont, and McDonald had not departed on the stage, while some other, pretending to be he, possibly wearing his clothes to further the deceit, had taken the seat reserved in the coach. Baffled, bewildered by this unexpected discovery, the Sergeant swung back into his saddle, not knowing which way to turn.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE DEAD BODY
That both McDonald and his daughter were involved in this strange puzzle was already clear. The disappearance of the one was as mysterious as that of the other. Whether the original conspiracy had centred about the Major, and Miss Molly had merely been drawn into the net through accident, or whether both were destined as victims from the first, could not be determined by theory. Indeed the Sergeant could evolve no theory, could discover no purpose in the outrage. Convinced that Dupont and his wife were the moving spirits, he yet possessed no satisfactory reason for charging them with the crime, for which there was no apparent object.
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