Part 26 (2/2)

Northwest! Harold Bindloss 33360K 2022-07-22

When the Vancouver train rolled into the station n.o.body got on board, but a police trooper came from the agent's office, and going along the line, looked into the cars. Margaret had not remarked him before the train stopped and thought his curiosity ominous. If Bob had stolen past the ranch, he, however, had not tried to get on board and was hiding somewhere about. Margaret was puzzled and resolved to stop at the hotel and see Stannard. She admitted that her resolve was perhaps not logical, because if Stannard knew more about the shooting than others, he would not enlighten her. All the same, she meant to see him.

Getting down where the wagon road went round to the front of the hotel, she tied her horse to a tree and took a path across the hill. The trees were thick, but the moon was bright and in places its beams pierced the wood. In front and some distance above her, she saw illuminated windows at the top of the hotel; then the terrace wall cut the reflection from the drawing-room and rotunda. The high wall was in the gloom, but at the bottom pools of silver light broke the dark shadow of the trees.

Margaret knew the steps to the terrace. Had she gone to the front door, she must have waited at the office until a page brought Stannard, and she thought she would sooner find him in the rotunda before he knew she was about.

She heard music in the drawing-room and somebody on the terrace talking, but the wall was high and when the music stopped all was quiet. In the woods one lifts one's feet with mechanical caution and Margaret was a rancher's daughter. Her advance was noiseless, but at a bend of the path she stopped.

A few yards off, a man stood under a tree. His back was to Margaret, but the dark object across his shoulder was a slung rifle and she thought she knew him. Stannard leaned against a trunk opposite. He wore dinner dress and a loose light coat. He was in the moonlight, and when he shook his head Margaret thought his smile ironical. The other's pose was stiff and his fist was clenched. Margaret put her hand in the pocket of her deerskin coat and then moved a branch. The man turned and his hand went to his rifle. Margaret heard the sling rattle.

”You don't want your gun, Bob; I know you. Besides, I've got a pistol,”

she said.

Bob swore softly and Stannard lifted his hat.

”Aren't you rather theatrical, Miss Jardine? I imagined gun pulling was out of date.”

”Bob's theatrical; but he's _slow_,” Margaret rejoined, and although her heart beat her voice was steady. ”I haven't yet pulled my gun.”

”It looks as if you had better leave yours alone,” Stannard remarked to Bob.

Bob's face got very dark, but Stannard smiled.

”Did you want to see me or the other, Miss Jardine?”

”I want to see Bob first, but you may remain,” said Margaret and gave Bob a searching glance. ”Who shot warden Douglas?”

”I did not, anyhow,” Bob replied fiercely. ”I hadn't a gun and when I'd fixed the others I put out my lamp. I'd no use for using the pit-light.

The fool plan was Deering's.”

”All the same, you quit!”

”I sure quit. Somebody shot Douglas and the police knew he'd got a pick on me. They'd got to put the shooting on one of the gang.”

”Perhaps it's important the police knew you had a pick on Douglas,”

Stannard remarked.

”For all that, I didn't use my gun,” Bob rejoined.

Margaret pondered. As a rule, Bob was marked by a rather sinister quietness, but now he talked with something like pa.s.sion. He had stepped forward and a moonbeam touched his face. Margaret thought he knew, but he did not move out of the light. Somehow she felt she must believe his statement. Then Stannard turned to her.

”Perhaps it's strange, but I rather think he speaks the truth.”

”If you did not use your gun, who did shoot Douglas?” Margaret resumed, looking at Bob. ”I want to know. A trooper's watching the station, and if I shout, the hotel clerk will call him on the 'phone.”

Bob's pa.s.sion vanished and Margaret thought his calm ominous.

”That's another thing! Looks as if Jimmy plugged the fellow. He sort of allowed he done it and he started for the rocks.”

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