"Well, now, Andy--Your Honor--if it's just the same to everybody,
I'll skip the part about the tracks and finding Adam until
cross-examination. It's just going over the same old ground again.
I've been talking to Hobby, and we found everything just about as you
heard it from these boys." His eye shifted toward the witness bench.
"All except one little thing about the tracks, and that was done after
the murder, and might have been happen-so. And I was wanting to hurry
up and get back to Garfield to-night. We're going to bury Adam at
sundown."
"All right, Pete. But we'll cross-examine you--if not to-day, then
to-morrow. It pays to work tailings, sometimes."
"That's queer, too. I was just coming to that--in a way. Mining. Adam
went up there to prospect for gold--placer gold. When the big rain
came, the night he was killed, all tracks were washed out, of course.
We hadn't got far when dark came--and then the rain. But yesterday I
went combing out the country to look for Adam's outfit of camp stuff,
and also to see if perhaps he had found any claims before he was
killed. And I found this."
He handed to the judge a small paper packet, folded and refolded, and
wrapped round with a buckskin string. The judge opened it.
"Coarse gold!" he said. "Like the Apache gold in the seventies! Pete,
you've got a rich mine if there's much of this."
"It is rich dirt," said Pete. "I got that from less than a dozen pans.
But it is not my mine."
"How so?"
"I got home late last night. This morning I looked in all the pockets
in the clothes Adam was wearing. Here is what I found in his vest." He
handed to Hinkle a small tobacco sack, rolled to a tiny cylinder.
"The same kind of gold--big as rice!" said Hinkle. "So Adam Forbes
found this?"
Caney's hand crept under his coat.
"Judge for yourself. I found three claims located. Three. But no name
of Adam Forbes to any notice. One claim was called the 'Goblin
Gold--'"
Charlie See rose up as if he were lifted by the hair of his head. "The
other names, Pete! Not the locators. The claims--give me the names of
the other two claims!"
"'Nine Bucks' was one--and the 'Please Hush.'"
Charlie turned and took one step, his tensed weight resting on the
balls of his feet, his left arm lashed out to point. All eyes turned
to the witness bench--and two witnesses looked at one.
"_Caney!_" thundered Charlie See.
Leaping, Caney's arm came from his coat. See's hand was swifter,
unseen. In flashes of fire and smoke, Caney, even as he leaped up,
pitched forward on his face. His arm reached out on the floor, holding
a smoking gun, and See's foot was on the gun.
A dozen men had pulled down Toad Hales and Jody Weir. Gwinne's gun was
out.
"Stand back! The next man over the rails gets it!" Maginnis jumped
beside him. The shouting crowd recoiled.
"Sit down! Sit down, everybody!" shouted the judge. He pounded on his
desk. "Bojarquez! Ross! Foster! Come up here. I make you deputies. Get
this crowd out or get order."
The deafening turmoil stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
"Gwinne, arrest those two men for the murder of Adam Forbes," ordered
Hinkle.
"Well, gee-whiz, I'd say they was under arrest now. Here, gimme them."
He reached down and handcuffed Weir and Hales together. "How's Caney,
Dines? Dead?"
Johnny knelt by the fallen man. "Dead as a door nail. Three shots. Did
he get you anywhere, See?"
"No. He was just one-sixteenth of a second too late." Charlie See
looked hard at the cylinder of his gun. He had fired only two shots.
"Pete, it's a wonder he didn't hit you. You was right in line."
"I wasn't there," said Pete dryly. "Not when the bullets got there.
Not good enough."
Gwinne and Maginnis took the two prisoners to jail, by the back door.
"Now for a clearing up," said Judge Hinkle. "You seem to have inside
information, Mr. See. Suppose you tell us about it?"
"No chance for a mistake, judge. I had a long talk with Adam the night
before, about a lost gold mine at Mescalero. And three of the phrases
that we used back and forth--it seems he picked them out to name his
find. 'Goblin Gold.' I used the word 'gobbling' gold--joking, you
know. And the story was about 'nine bucks'; and it wound up with an
old Mescalero saying 'Won't you please hush?' It wasn't possible that
those three names had reached the papers Pete found, except through
the dead man's mind. Adam called these three men to witness for him,
likely. Then they killed him for his mines. They destroyed his
location papers, but they kept the names. Easier than to make up new
ones. That'll hang 'em."
"Sounds good. But how are you going to prove it? Suppose they get a
good lawyer and stick to their story? They found a mine, and you got
in a shooting match with Caney. That don't prove anything."
"Well, I'll bet I can prove it," said Johnny Dines. "Ten to one, that
letter Forbes gave me to mail was his location papers. He seemed keen
about it."
"Did he say anything about location papers? Was the letter addressed
to the recorder?" demanded Pete.
"Look now!" said Johnny. "If this theory of See's is correct, and if
that really was location papers in the letter I mailed--why, that
letter won't get here till two o'clock this afternoon, whether it is
the location papers or what. And the postmaster and the recorder are
both here in this court room, judge. Gwinne was pointing out everybody
to me, before you called court. So they can mosey along down to the
post office together--the postmaster and the recorder. And when that
letter comes you'll know all about it."
"Ah, that reminds me," said the judge--"the case of the Territory of
New Mexico vs. John Dines is now dismissed. This court is now
adjourned. John Dines, I want to be the first to congratulate you."
"Thanks, Judge.--Hiram," said Johnny, "Cole told me to report to you.
He said I was to go to the John Cross pasture and pick me a mount from
the runaways there."
"But, Johnny, you can't ride those horses," said Bojarquez.
Johnny flushed. "Don't you believe it, old hand. You're not the only
one that can ride."
Bojarquez spread out his hands. "But bareback? Where ees your saddle?
And the Twilight horse? The bridle, he ees broke. Scarb'ro's in
Chihuahua by now."
"Dinner's on me," said Johnny.
Charlie See drew Johnny aside and spoke to him in confidence.
"How does it happen you know so pat just when a letter gets to
Hillsboro when it is posted in Garfield?"
"A letter? Oh--Hobby Lull, he told me."
"Yes, yes. And what was the big idea for keeping still about that
letter while they wove a rope to your neck?"
"Why, my dear man," said Johnny, "I can't read through a sealed
envelope."
Charlie sniffed. "You saw a good many things mighty clear, I notice,
but you overlooked the one big bet--like fun you did! Caney and Weir
and Hales--don't you suppose they knew that letter was on the way? And
that it was never to reach the recorder?"
"Since you are so very shrewd," said Johnny, "I sometimes wonder that
you are not shrewder still."
"And keep my mouth shut? That's how I shall keep it. But I just wanted
you to know. You may be deceiving me, but you're not fooling me any.
Keep your secret."
"Thank you," said Johnny, "I will."
"Good boy. All the same, Hobby and I will be up at the post office.
And I know now what we'll find in that letter you mailed. We'll find
Adam's location papers, with them three murderers for witness."
And they did. They found something else too; a message from beyond the
grave that in his hour of fortune their friend did not forget his
friends.
They buried Adam Forbes at sundown of that day. No thing was lacking;
his friends and neighbors gathered together to bid him Godspeed; there
were love and tears for him. And of those friends, three were all road
stained and weary; they had ridden hard from Hillsboro for that
parting; Lull and Charlie See and old Pete. It was to one of these
that all eyes were turned when the rude coffin was lowered into the
grave.
"Pete?" said Jim-Ike-Jones.
And old Pete Harkey stepped forth and spoke slowly, while his faded
old eyes looked past the open grave and rested on the hills beyond.
"More than at any other time we strive to center and steady our
thoughts, when we stand by the loved and dead. It is an effort as vain
as to look full and steadily at the blinding sun. I can tell you no
thing here which you do not know.
"You all knew Adam Forbes. He was a simple and kindly man. He brought
a good courage to living, he was all help and laughter, he joyed in
the sting and relish of rushing life. Those of you here who were most
unfriends to him will not soon forget that gay, reckless,
tender-hearted creature.
"You know his faults. He was given to hasty wrath, to stubbornness and
violence. His hand was heavy. If there are any here who have been
wronged by this dead man--as I think most like--let the memory of it
be buried in this grave. It was never his way to walk blameless. He
did many things amiss; he took wrong turnings. But he was never too
proud to turn back, to admit a mistake or to right his wrongdoing. He
paid for what he broke.
"For the rest--he fed the hungry, helped the weak, he nursed the sick
and dug graves for the dead. Now, in his turn, it is fitting and just
that no bought hand dug this grave, but that his friends and his foes
did him this last service, and called pleasant dreams to his long
sleep.
"We have our dear dreams, too. It can do no harm to dream that
somewhere down the skies that brightness and fire and light still
flames--but not for us.
"It is written that upon Mars Hill the men of Athens built an altar
'to the Unknown God.' It was well builded; and with no misgiving we
leave our friend to the care--and to the honor--of the Unknown God."
He stood back; and from the women who wept came one who did not weep,
dry-eyed and pale; whose pitying hand dropped the first earth into the
grave.
"Stardust to Stardust," said Edith Harkey.
* * * * *
That night Pete Harkey stood by the big fireplace of the big lonesome
house.
"Shall I light the fire, Edith?"
"Not to-night, father."
In the dimness he groped for a chair; he took her on his knee, her
arms clung fast.
"Is it well with you, Edith?"
Then, in the clinging dusk she dared the truth at last; to ears that
did not hear. For his thought was with the dead man. She knew it well;
yet once to tell her story--only once! Her voice rang steady, prouder
than any pride: "I have loved Greatheart. It is well with me."
"Poor little girl," he said. "Poor little girl!" The proud head sought
his breast and now her tears fell fast.
* * * * *
And far away, Charlie See rode south through the wizard twilight.
There was no singing now. For at the world's edge some must fare
alone; through all their dreams one unforgotten face--laughing, and
dear, and lost.