United States or Spain ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The horsemen had reached the camp and soon thundered into view. "What's this going on, anyway?" demanded the sheriff, angrily. "Anthony Barstow is innocent. These men can prove that they spent the night at Barstow's cabin. When I learned the truth, I came straight back. Buckeye Pete, you throw up your hands! You're wanted for the murder of Spotty Collins."
"You did n't have enough to eat?" she asked in astonishment. "You should have seen me watch Barstow's cake-box." He told her the story, making it as humorous as he could. But when he had finished, she wasn't laughing. For a moment his impulse was to lay before her the whole story the bitter climax, the ashen climax, which lately he had thought so beautiful.
Donaldson smiled a trifle condescendingly. "What's the use of talking to you when you 'll not admit a sound deduction? And yet, if I said you don't know what results when you put together two known chemicals, you 'd " There was a look in Barstow's face that checked Donaldson, a look of worried recollection. "I 'd say nothing," he asserted earnestly, "because I don't always know."
Yet even when he spoke again, there was still a certain unsteadiness in his voice. "How did you come across Mr. Garratt Skinner?" he asked. "Barstow introduced me. I made Barstow's acquaintance at the Criterion Bar, and he took me to Garratt Skinner's house in Hobart Place." "I see," said Mr. Jarvice. "It was in Garratt Skinner's house that you lost your money, I suppose."
I have something else to do with my money than to pour it into Barstow's pockets. I know the man. Send him to me to-morrow, and I'll talk to him as between gentlemen." Walter Hine flushed. He had grown accustomed to deference and flatteries in the household of Garratt Skinner. The unceremonious scorn of Mr. Jarvice stung his vanity, and vanity was the one strong element of his character.
Was this story of the landlord a glib lie of Captain Barstow's to account, with a detail which should carry conviction, for the suspiciously new pack of cards? And if so, did her father believe in its truth? Had the packs been waiting in Captain Barstow's coat pocket in the hall until the fitting moment for their appearance? If so, did her father play a part in the conspiracy?
Barstow's position necessitated the fixing of his eyes upon the ceiling; all other glances, ignoring Barbee, centred upon Longstreet. He was smiling and eager. 'Come alive, gents! called Barbee genially. 'Stack up alongside the bar and I'll buy! Moraga, to the bartender, 'you know me. I got a real bad case of alkali throat. Roll up, boys! Say, wait a minute.
That phrase of Barstow's, "It's quitting not to stay," smarted a bit. In spite of these vital problems, Donaldson was keenly conscious, even with his wild freedom still nothing but a conception, of sharpened senses which responded keenly to the lights and sounds about him.
Word Of The Day