Westerner Claims to Be the Brother of Late Millionaire.
Detective Brady May Win Big Reward.
And then it goes on to say that this detective has been searching all
over the West for Archibald, and trailed him from the hills of Montana
to a road-house near Beverley. Brady is to produce his proofs today. It
also says that the alleged Archibald Perkins seems to be suffering from
some kind of shock, and has tried to escape. Refuses to talk.
“Boys,” says Muley, “we’re goin’ to get Polecat and take him back to his
dugout.”
A feller showed us where the Perkins house was, and we sure went up
there real fast. The beauty of it don’t appeal to us, and we don’t ask
no questions. Telescope just opened the front door, and we all went in.
A fat feller, with a swaller-tailed coat seen us coming, and he almost
throwed a fit.
“I—I beg your pardon,” says he.
“You’re excused,” says Telescope. “Lead us to the owner of the place,
and do it quick.”
He sure hurried fast. We went upstairs and stops in front of a big door.
There sets Polecat beside a table, and beside him is Brady. Across the
table sets Andy and another _hombre_ of the same breed. There’s a old
lady, with her glasses on a handle, and in another chair sets Reginald,
looking like he’d rather have a drink than anything else.