CHAPTER XII
Brower entered the room quickly but very quietly, and at once came tome. His eyes were staring, his eyelids twitched, his hands shook. Irecognized the symptoms.
"Have you got it? Have you got it with you?" he whispered, feverishly.
"It's all right. I can fix you up. Untie me first," I replied.
He began to fumble with the knots of my bonds too hastily andimpatiently for effectiveness. I was trying to stoop over far enough tosee what he was doing when my eye caught the shadow of a moving figureoutside. An instant later Tim Westmore, the English groom attached tothe Morgan stallion, came cautiously through the door, which he closedbehind him. I attempted unobtrusively to warn Brower, but he only lookedup, nodded vaguely, and continued his fumbling efforts to free me.Westmore glanced at us all curiously, but went at once to the bigwindows, which he proceeded to swing shut. Then he came over to us,pushed Brower one side, and most expeditiously untied the knots. I stoodup stretching in the luxury of freedom, then turned to perform a likeoffice for Miss Emory. But Brower was by now frantic. He seized my armand fairly shook me, big as I was, in the urgence of his desire. He wasrapidly losing all control and caution.
"Let him have it, sir," urged Westmore in a whisper. "I'll free theyoung lady."
I gave Brower the hypodermic case. He ran to the wash bowl for water.During the process of preparation he uttered little animal sounds underhis breath. When the needle had sunk home he lay back in a chair andclosed his eyes.
In the meantime, I had been holding a whispered colloquy with Westmore.
"He sneaked in on me at dark, sir," he told me, "on foot. I don't knowhow he got in without being seen. They'd have found his tracks anyway inthe morning. I don't think he knew quite what he wanted to do. Him andme were old pals, and he wanted to ask me about things. He didn't expectto stay, I fancy. He told me he had left his horse tied a mile or sodown the road. Then a while back orders came to close down, air tight.We're used to such orders. Nobody can go out or come in, you understand.And there are guards placed. That made him uneasy. He told me then hewas a hop fiend. I've seen them before, and I got uneasy, too. If hecame to the worst I might have to tie and gag him. I know how they are."
"Go ahead," I urged. He had stopped to listen.
"I don't like that Cortinez being so handy like out there," heconfessed.
"Hooper told him he could sleep. He's not likely to pay attention to us.Miss Emory and I have been talking aloud."
"I hope not. Well, then, Ramon came by and stopped to talk to me for aminute. I had to hide Artie in a box-stall and hope to God he keptquiet. He wasn't as bad as he is now. Ramon told me about you beingcaught, and went on. After that nothing must do but find you. He thoughtyou might have his dope. He'd have gone into the jaws of hell after it.So I came along to keep him out of mischief."
"What are you going to do now?" asked the girl, who had kicked off herslippers and had been walking a few paces to and fro.
"I don't know, ma'am. We've got to get away."
"We?"
"You mean me, too? Yes, ma'am! I have stood with the doings of thisplace as long as I can stand them. Artie has told me some other things.Are you here of your free will, ma'am?" he asked, abruptly.
"No," she replied.
"I suspected as much. I'm through with the whole lot of them."
Brower opened his eyes. He was now quite calm.
"Hooper sold the Morgan stallion," he whispered, smiled sardonically,and closed his eyes again.
"Without telling me a word of it!" added Tim with heat. "He ain'tdelivered him yet."
"Well, I don't blame you. Now you'd better quietly sneak back to yourquarters. There is likely to be trouble before we get through. You, too,Brower. Nobody knows you are here."
Brower opened his eyes again.
"I can get out of this place now I've had me hop," said he, decidedly."Come on, let's go."
"We'll all go," I agreed; "but let's see what we can find here first.There may be some paper--or something----"
"What do you mean? What sort of papers? Hadn't we better go at once?"
"It is supposed to be well known that the reason Hooper isn'tassassinated from behind a bush is because in that case his killers arein turn to assassinate a long list of his enemies. Only nobody is sure:just as nobody is really sure that he has killers at all. You can't getaction on an uncertainty."
She nodded. "I can understand that."
"If we could get proof positive it would be no trick at all to raise thecountry."
"What sort of proof?"
"Well, I mentioned a list. I don't doubt his head man--Ramon, I suppose,the one he'd trust with carrying out such a job--must have a list ofsome sort. He wouldn't trust to memory."
"And he wouldn't trust it to Ramon until after he was dead!" said thegirl with sudden intuition. "If it exists we'll find it here."
She started toward the paper-stuffed desk, but I stopped her.
"More likely the safe," said I.
Tim, who was standing near it, tried the handle.
"It's locked," he whispered.
I fell on my knees and began to fiddle with the dial, of course in vain.Miss Emory, with more practical decision of character, began to runthrough the innumerable bundles and loose papers in the desk, tossingthem aside as they proved unimportant or not germane to the issue. I hadnot the slightest knowledge of the constructions of safes but whirledthe knob hopelessly in one direction or another trying to listen forclicks, as somewhere I had read was the thing to do. As may be imagined,I arrived nowhere. Nor did the girl. We looked at each other in chagrinat last.
"There is nothing here but ranch bills and accounts and businessletters," she confessed.
I merely shook my head.
At this moment Brower, whom I had supposed to be sound asleep, openedhis eyes.
"Want that safe open?" he asked, drowsily.
He arose, stretched, and took his place beside me on the floor. His headcocked one side, he slowly turned the dials with the tips of fingers Ifor the first time noticed were long and slim and sensitive. Twice afterextended, delicate manipulations he whirled the knob impatiently andtook a fresh start. On the proverbial third trial he turned the handleand the door swung open. He arose rather stiffly from his knees, resumedhis place in the armchair, and again closed his eyes.
It was a small safe, with few pigeon holes. A number of blue-coveredcontracts took small time for examination. There were the usual numberof mine certificates not valuable enough for a safe deposit, someconfidential memoranda and accounts having to do with the ranch.
"Ah, here is something!" I breathed to the eager audience over myshoulder. I held in my hands a heavy manila envelope, sealed, inscribed"Ramon. (To be destroyed unopened.)"
"Evidently we were right: Ramon has the combination and is to beexecutor," I commented.
I tore open the envelope and extracted from it another of theblue-covered documents.
"It's a copy, unsigned, of that last agreement with your father," Isaid, after a disappointed glance. "It's worth keeping," and I thrust itinside my shirt.
But this particular pigeon hole proved to be a mine. In it were severalmore of the same sort of envelope, all sealed, all addressed to Ramon.One was labelled as the Last Will, one as Inventory, and one simply asDirections. This last had a further warning that it was to be openedonly by the one addressed. I determined by hasty examination that thefirst two were only what they purported to be, and turned hopefully to aperusal of the last. It was in Spanish, and dealt at great length withthe disposition and management of Hooper's extensive interests. I appenda translation of the portion of this remarkable document, having to dowith our case.
"These are my directions," it began, "as to the matter of which we havemany times spoken together. I have many enemies, and many who think theyhave cause to wish my death. They are cowards and soft and I do notthink they will ever be sure enough to do me harm. I do not fear them.But it may be that one or some
of them will find it in their souls to doa deed against me. In that case I shall be content, for neither do Ifear the devil. But I shall be content only if you follow my orders. Iadd here a list of my enemies and of those who have cause to wish meill. If I am killed, it is probable that some one of these will havedone the deed. Therefore they must all die. You must see to it,following them if necessary to the ends of the earth. You will knowhow; and what means to employ. When all these are gone, then go you tothe highest rock on the southerly pinnacle of Cochise's Stronghold. Tenpaces northwest is a gray, flat slab. If you lift this slab there willbe found a copper box. In the box is the name of a man. You will go tothis man and give him the copper box and in return he will give to youone hundred thousand dollars. I know well, my Ramon, that your honestywould not permit you to seek the copper box before the last of myenemies is dead. Nevertheless, that you may admire my recourse, I havemade an arrangement. If the gray slab on Cochise's Stronghold is everdisturbed before the whole toll is paid, you will die very suddenly andunpleasantly. I know well that you, my Ramon, would not disturb it; andI hope for your sake that nobody else will do so. It is not likely. Noone is fool enough to climb Cochise's Stronghold for pleasure; and thisgray slab is one among many."
At this time I did not read carefully the above cheerful document. MySpanish was good enough, but took time in the translating. I dipped intoit enough to determine that it was what we wanted, and flipped the pagesto come to the list of prospective victims. It covered two sheets, and aglance down the columns showed me that about every permanent inhabitantof the Soda Springs Valley was included. I found my own name in quitefresh ink toward the last.
"This is what we want," I said in satisfaction, rising to my feet. Isketched in a few words the purport of the document.
"Let me see it," said the girl.
I handed it to her. She began to examine carefully the list of names,her face turning paler as she read. Tim Westmore looked anxiously overher shoulder. Suddenly I saw his face congest and his eyes bulge.
"Why! why!" he gasped, "I'm there! What've I ever done, I ask you that?The old----" he choked, at a loss and groping. Then his anger flared up."I've always served him faithful and done what I was told," he muttered,fiercely. "I'll do him in for this!"
"I am here," observed Miss Emory.
"Yes, and that sot in the chair!" whispered Tim, fiercely.
Again Brower proved he was not asleep by opening one eye.
"Thanks for them kind words," said he.
"We've got to get out of here," stated Tim with conviction.
"That idea just got through your thick British skull?" queried Artie,rousing again.
"I wish we had some way to carry the young lady--she can't walk," saidWestmore, paying no attention.
"I have my horse tied out by the lone Joshua-tree," I answered him.
"I'm going to take a look at that Cortinez," said the little Englishman,nodding his satisfaction at my news as to the horse. "I'm not easy abouthim."
"He'll sleep like a log until morning," Miss Emory reassured me. "I'veoften stepped right over him where he has been on guard and walked allaround the garden."
"Just the same I'm going to take a look," persisted Westmore.
He tiptoed to the door, softly turned the knob and opened it. He foundhimself face to face with Cortinez.
The Killer Page 12