"I did, and they're on their way back on No. 6."
"How could Carmody do that?" Hanscom demanded, hotly. "He told them to
go--I heard him."
"He says not. He says he just excused the girl for the time being. He
declares now that he expected them both to stay within call, and when he
heard they were running away--"
"How did he know they were running away?"
"Search me! Some one on the train must have wired back."
"More likely the Blackbird Ranch 'phoned in. They are all related to
Watson. I was afraid of them." He rose. "Well, that proves that Abe and
his gang were at the bottom of that raid."
"Maybe so, but I don't see how Carmody can go into that--his job is to
find the man or woman who killed Watson."
"Well, there's where I come in. I've got the girl who made those tracks
on the floor."
The sheriff was thoughtful. "I guess you'd better call up Carmody--he's
the whole works till his verdict is rendered, and he ought to be
notified at once."
A moment's talk with the doctor's office disclosed the fact that he was
out in the country on a medical trip, and would not return till late.
"Reckon we'll have to wait," said the sheriff.
The ranger's face fell. After a pause he asked, "When does that train
get in?"
"About six; it's an hour late."
"And they'll be jailed?"
"Sure thing! No other way. Carmody told me to take charge of them and
see that they were both on hand to-morrow."
Hanscom's fine eyes flamed with indignation. "It's an outrage. That girl
is as innocent of Watson's killing as you are. I won't have her
humiliated in this way."
"You seem terribly interested in this young lady," remarked Throop, with
a grin.
Hanscom was in no mood to dodge. "I am--and I'm going to save her from
coming here if I can." He started for the door. "I'll see Judge Brinkley
and get her released. Carmody has no authority to hold her."
"I hope you succeed," said the sheriff, sympathetically; "but at present
I'm under orders from the coroner. It's up to him. So you think you've
got the girl who made them tracks?"
"I certainly do, and I want you to hold these prisoners till Carmody
gets home. Don't let anybody see them, and don't let them talk with one
another. They'll all come before that jury to-morrow, and they mustn't
have any chance to frame up a lie."
"All right. I see your point. Go ahead. Your prisoners will be here when
you come back."
Hanscom went away, raging against the indignity which threatened Helen.
At Carmody's office he waited an hour, hoping the coroner might return,
and, in despair of any help from him, set out at last for Brinkley's
office, resolute to secure the judge's interference.
The first man he met on the street stopped him with a jovial word:
"Hello, Hans! Say, you want to watch out for Abe Kitsong. He came
b'ilin' in half an hour ago, and is looking for you. Says you helped
that Dutchman and his girl (or wife, or whatever she is) to get away,
and that you've been arresting Henry, his nephew, without a warrant, and
he swears he'll swat you good and plenty, on sight."
Hanscom's voice was savage as he replied: "You tell him that I'm big
enough to be seen with the naked eye, and if he wants me right away
he'll find me at Judge Brinkley's office."
The other man also grew serious. "All the same, Hans, keep an eye out,"
he urged. "Abe is sure to make you trouble. He's started in drinking,
and when he's drunk he's poisonous as a rattler."
"All right. I'm used to rattlers--I'll hear him before he strikes. He's
a noisy brute."
The ranger could understand that Rita's father might very naturally be
thrown into a fury of protest by the news of his daughter's arrest, but
Kitsong's concern over a nephew whom he had not hitherto regarded as
worth the slightest care did not appear especially logical or singularly
important.
Brinkley was not in his office and so Hanscom went out to his house, out
on the north bend of the river in a large lawn set with young trees.
The judge, seated on his porch in his shirt-sleeves, exhibited the
placid ease of a man whose office work is done and his grass freshly
sprinkled.
"Good evening, Hanscom," he pleasantly called. "Come up and have a seat
and a smoke with the gardener."
"I have but a moment," the ranger replied, and plunged again into the
story, which served in this instance as a preface to his plea for
intervention. "You must help _me_, Judge. Miss McLaren must not go to
jail. To arrest her in this way a second time is a crime. She's a lady,
Judge, and as innocent of that shooting as a child."
"You surprise me," said Brinkley. "According to all reports she is very,
very far from being a lady."
Hanscom threw out his hands in protest. "They're all wrong, Judge. I
tell you she _is_ a lady, and young and handsome."
"Handsome and young!" The judge's eyes took on a musing expression.
"Well, well! that accounts for much. But what was she doing up there in
the company of that old Dutchman?"
"I don't know why she came West, but I'm glad she did. I'm glad to have
known her. That old Dutchman, as you call him, is her stepfather and a
fine chap."
"But Carmody has arrested her. What caused him to do that?"
"I don't know. I can't understand it. It may be that Kitsong has put the
screws on him some way."
The judge reflected. "As the only strange woman in the valley, the girl
naturally falls under suspicion of having made those footprints."
"I know it, Judge, but you have only to see her--to hear her voice--to
realize how impossible it is for her to kill even a coyote. All I ask,
now, is that you save her from going to jail."
"I don't see how I can interfere," Brinkley answered, with gentle
decision. "As coroner, Carmody has the case entirely in his hands till
after the verdict. But don't take her imprisonment too hard," he added,
with desire to comfort him. "Throop has a good deal of discretion and
I'll 'phone him to make her stay as little like incarceration as
possible. You see, while nominally she's only a witness for the state,
actually she's on trial for murder, and till you can get your other
woman before the jury she's a suspect. If you are right, the jury will
at once bring in a verdict against other parties, known or unknown, and
she will be free--except that she may have to remain to testify in her
own case against the raiders. Don't worry, my dear fellow. It will come
out all right."
Hanscom was now in the grasp of conflicting emotions. In spite of
Brinkley's refusal to interfere, he could not deny a definite feeling of
pleasure in the fact that Helen was returning and that he was about to
see her again. "Anyhow, I have another opportunity to serve her," he
thought, as he turned down the street toward the station. "Perhaps after
the verdict she will not feel so eager to leave the country."