CHAPTER V

A TRIP TO THE GRAND CAÑON

I stood pondering, for no explanation that would fit the facts seemed

possible. I should have considered the young fellow's story only an

attempt to gain a little reputation for pluck, if in any way I could

have accounted for the appearance and disappearance of the robbers.

Yet to suppose--which seemed the only other horn to the dilemma--that

the son and guests of the vice-president of the Missouri Western, and

one of our own directors, would be concerned in train-robbery was to

believe something equally improbable. Indeed, I should have put the

whole thing down as a practical joke of Mr. Cullen's party, if it had

not been for the loss of the registered letters.

Even a practical joker would hardly care to go to the length of

cutting open government mail-pouches; for Uncle Sam doesn't approve of

such conduct.

Whatever the explanation, I had enough facts to prevent me from

wasting more time on that alkali plain. Getting the men and horses

back onto the cars, I jumped up on the tailboard and ordered the

runner to pull out for Flagstaff. It was a run of seven hours, getting

us in a little after eight, and in those hours I had done a lot of

thinking which had all come to one result--that Mr. Cullen's party was

concerned in the hold-up.

The two private cars were on a siding, but the Cullens had left for

the Grand Cañon the moment they had arrived, and were about reaching

there by this time. I went to 218 and questioned the cook and waiter,

but they had either seen nothing or else had been primed, for not

a fact did I get from them. Going to my own car, I ordered a quick

supper, and while I was eating it I questioned my boy. He told me that

he had heard the shots, and had bolted the front door of my car, as I

had ordered when I went out; that as he turned to go to a safer place,

he had seen a man, revolver in hand, climb over the off-side gate of

Mr. Cullen's car, and for a moment he had supposed it a road agent,

till he saw that it was Albert Cullen.

"That was just after I had got off?" I asked.

"Yis, sah.

"Then it couldn't have been Mr. Cullen, Jim," I declared, "for I found

him up at the other end of the car."

"Tell you it wuz, Mr. Gordon," Jim insisted. "I done seen his face

clar in de light, and he done go into Mr. Cullen's car whar de old

gentleman wuz sittin'."

That set me whistling to myself, and I laughed to think how near I

had come to giving nitroglycerin to a fellow who was only shamming

heart-failure; for that it was Frederic Cullen who had climbed on the

car I hadn't the slightest doubt, the resemblance between the two

brothers being quite strong enough to deceive any one who had never

seen them together. I smiled a little, and remarked to myself, "I

think I can make good my boast that I would catch the robbers; but

whether the Cullens will like my doing it, I question. What is more,

Lord Ralles will owe me a bottle." Then I thought of Madge, and didn't

feel as pleased over my success as I had felt a moment before.

By nine o'clock the posse and I were in the saddle and skirting the

San Francisco peaks. There was no use of pressing the ponies, for our

game wasn't trying to escape, and, for that matter, couldn't, as the

Colorado River wasn't passable within fifty miles. It was a lovely

moonlight night, and the ride through the pines was as pretty a one as

I remember ever to have made. It set me thinking of Madge and of our

talk the evening before, and of what a change twenty-four hours

had brought. It was lucky I was riding an Indian pony, or I should

probably have landed in a heap. I don't know that I should have cared

particularly if a prairie-dog burrow had made me dash my brains out,

for I wasn't happy over the job that lay before me.

We watered at Silver Spring at quarter-past twelve. From that point we

were clear of the pines and out on the plain, so we could go a better

pace. This brought us to the half-way ranch by two, where we gave the

ponies a feed and an hour's rest. We reached the last relay station

just as the moon set, about three-forty; and, as all the rest of the

ride was through coconino forest, we held up there for daylight,

getting a little sleep meanwhile.

We rode into the camp at the Grand Cañon a little after eight, and the

deserted look of the tents gave me a moment's fright, for I feared

that the party had gone. Tolfree explained, however, that some had

ridden out to Moran Point, and the rest had gone down Hance's trail.

So I breakfasted and then took a look at Albert Cullen's Winchester.

That it had been recently fired was as plain as the Grand Cañon

itself; throwing back the bar, I found an empty cartridge shell still

oily from the discharge. That completed the tale of seven shots. I

didn't feel absolutely safe till I had asked Tolfree if there had been

any shooting of echoes by the party, but his denial rounded out my

chain of evidence.

Telling the sheriff to guard the bags of the party carefully, I took

two of the posse and rode over to Moran's Point. Sure enough there

were Mr. Cullen, Albert, and Captain Ackland. They gave a shout at

seeing me, and even before I had reached them they called to know how

I could come so soon, and if I had caught the robbers. Mr. Cullen

started to tell his pleasure at my rejoining the party, but my

expression made him pause, and it seemed to dawn on all three that

the Winchester across my saddle, and the cowboys' hands resting

nonchalantly on the revolvers in their belts, had a meaning.

"Mr. Cullen," I explained, "I've got a very unpleasant job on hand,

which I don't want to make any worse than need be. Every fact points

to your party as guilty of holding up the train last night and

stealing those letters. Probably you weren't all concerned, but I've

got to go on the assumption that you are all guilty, till you prove

otherwise."

"Aw, you're joking," drawled Albert.

"I hope so," I said, "but for the present I've got to be English and

treat the joke seriously."

"What do you want to do?" asked Mr. Cullen.

"I don't wish to arrest you gentlemen unless you force me to," I said,

"for I don't see that it will do any good. But I want you to return to

camp with us."

They assented to that, and, single file, we rode back. When there I

told each that he must be searched, to which they submitted at once.

After that we went through their baggage. I wasn't going to have the

sheriff or cowboys tumbling over Miss Cullen's clothes, so I looked

over her bag myself. The prettiness and daintiness of the various

contents were a revelation to me, and I tried to put them back as

neatly as I had found them, but I didn't know much about the articles,

and it was a terrible job trying to fold up some of the things. Why,

there was a big pink affair, lined with silk, with bits of ribbon and

lace all over it, which nearly drove me out of my head, for I would

have defied mortal man to pack it so that it shouldn't muss. I had a

funny little feeling of tenderness for everything, which made fussing

over it all a pleasure, even while I felt all the time that I was

doing a sneak act and had really no right to touch her belongings. I

didn't find anything incriminating, and the posse reported the same

result with the other baggage. If the letters were still in existence,

they were either concealed somewhere or were in the possession of the

party in the Cañon. Telling the sheriff to keep those in the camp

under absolute surveillance, I took a single man, and saddling a

couple of mules, started down the trail.

We found Frederic and "Captain" Hance just dismounting at the Rock

Cabin, and I told the former he was in custody for the present, and

asked him where Miss Cullen and Lord Ralles were. He told me they were

just behind; but I wasn't going to take any risks, and, ordering the

deputy to look after Cullen, I went on down the trail. I couldn't

resist calling back--

"How's your respiration, Mr. Cullen?"

He laughed, and called, "Digitalis put me on my feet like a flash."

"He's got the most brains of any man in this party," I remarked to

myself.

The trail at this point is very winding, so that one can rarely see

fifty feet in advance, and sometimes not ten. Owing to this, the first

thing I knew I plumped round a curve on to a mule, which was patiently

standing there. Just back of him was another, on which sat Miss

Cullen, and standing close beside her was Lord Ralles. One of his

hands held the mule's bridle; the other held Madge's arm, and he was

saying, "You owe it to me, and I will have one. Or if--"

I swore to myself, and coughed aloud, which made Miss Cullen look up.

The moment she saw me she cried, "Mr. Gordon! How delightful!" even

while she grew as red as she had been pale the moment before. Lord

Ralles grew red too, but in a different way.

"Have you caught the robbers?" cried Miss Cullen.

"I'm afraid I have," I answered.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

I smiled at the absolute innocence and wonder with which she spoke,

and replied, "I know now, Miss Cullen, why you said I was braver than

the Britishers."

"How do you know?"

I couldn't resist getting in a side-shot at Lord Ralles, who had

mounted his mule and sat scowling. "The train-robbers were such

thoroughgoing duffers at the trade," I said, "that if they had left

their names and addresses they wouldn't have made it much easier. We

Americans may not know enough to deal with real road agents, but we

can do something with amateurs."

"What are we stopping here for?" snapped Lord Ralles.

"I'm sure I don't know," I responded. "Miss Cullen, if you will kindly

pass us, and then if Lord Ralles will follow you, we will go on to the

cabin. I must ask you to keep close together."

"I stay or go as I please, and not by your orders," asserted Lord

Ralles, snappishly.

"Out in this part of the country," I said calmly, "it is considered

shocking bad form for an unarmed man to argue with one who carries

a repeating rifle. Kindly follow Miss Cullen." And, leaning over, I

struck his mule with the loose ends of my bridle, starting it up the

trail.

When we reached the cabin the deputy told me that he had made Frederic

strip and had searched his clothing, finding nothing. I ordered Lord

Ralles to dismount and go into the cabin.

"For what?" he demanded.

"We want to search you," I answered.

"I don't choose to be searched," he protested. "You have shown no

warrant, nor--"

I wasn't in a mood toward him to listen to his talk. I swung my

Winchester into line and announced, "I was sworn in last night as a

deputy-sheriff, and am privileged to shoot a train-robber on sight.

Either dead or alive, I'm going to search your clothing inside of ten

minutes; and if you have no preference as to whether the examination

is an ante or post-mortem affair, I certainly haven't."

That brought him down off his high horse--that is, mule--and I sent

the deputy in with him with directions to toss his clothes out to me,

for I wanted to keep my eye on Miss Cullen and her brothers, so as to

prevent any legerdemain on their part.

One by one the garments came flying through the door to me. As fast as

I finished examining them I pitched them back, except--Well, as I have

thought it over since then, I have decided that I did a mean thing,

and have regretted it. But just put yourself in my place, and think of

how Lord Ralles had talked to me as if I was his servant, had refused

my apology and thanks, and been as generally "nasty" as he could, and

perhaps, you won't blame me that, after looking through his trousers,

I gave them a toss which, instead of sending them back into the hut,

sent them over the edge of the trail. They went down six hundred feet

before they lodged in a poplar, and if his lordship followed the trail

he could get round to them, but there would then be a hundred feet of

sheer rock between the trail and the trousers. "I hope it will

teach him to study his Lord Chesterfield to better purpose, for if

politeness doesn't cost anything, rudeness can cost considerable," I

chuckled to myself.

My amusement did not last long, for my next thought was, "If those

letters are concealed on any one, they are on Miss Cullen." The

thought made me lean up against my mule, and turn hot and cold by

turns.

A nice situation for a lover!

Master Tales of Mystery, Volume 3 · 第 5 / 18 章