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Updated: May 8, 2025
"I came merely because I was sent for, Miss Maclaire," he replied, his gray eyes once again upon her face. "Doctor Fairbain gave me your message; I am Jack Keith." She looked the complete astonishment she felt, sitting up in the chair, her eyes filled with questioning doubt. "Doctor Fairbain! My message! Surely you are mistaken? I know no one of that name, and have sent no message."
The boy told him about the lost heiress his father was searching after, and showed him his sister's picture. 'Black Bart' instantly recognized her resemblance to Christie Maclaire, and thought he saw a good chance for some easy money. He needed the papers, however, to ascertain exactly the terms of the will, and what would be necessary for the identification.
Was it any of your affair who she was?" "I reckoned I know'd her, and I did." The marshal turned his eyes toward Hope, and then back upon Scott, evidently slightly interested. "So? Recognized an old friend, I suppose?" The slight sneer in "Wild Bill's" soft voice caused Scott to flame up in sudden passion. "No, I didn't! but I called the turn just the same she's Christie Maclaire."
He had had a new thought driven into him, yet failed to entirely grasp its significance. "But, Jack," he asked, still half angry, "how about the girl? Hasn't she any right to this money?" "I don't know," honestly, "we don't any of us know, but whatever she has the right to she is going to get. You can bet on that, old man. We're bucking Hawley not Christie Maclaire get that into your head.
Apparently she did not know what to do, how to act, and was thinking swiftly. "Mr. Keith," she said, at last in decision, "I am going to ask you to blot that all out to forget that you even suspect me of being Christie Maclaire, of the Gaiety." "Why, certainly; but would you explain?" "There is little enough to explain. It is sufficient that I am here alone with you.
"I am, indeed, most fortunate to discover you alone, Miss Maclaire," he said, avoiding her eyes by a swift glance over the table, "and evidently at a time when you are only beginning your meal. May I join you?" She hesitated for an instant, debating with herself, and as quickly deciding on disagreeable tactics.
Would you prefer to commune with nature?" "Well, I should say not," drawing her hand through his arm, and then patting it with his own. "I have seen about all I care to of nature, but not of Christie Maclaire." "You may learn to feel the same regarding her," Hope answered, afraid to encourage the man, yet eagerly fearful lest she fail to play her part aright.
"I shall have to say yes, but, really, I did not suppose you would enjoy being ranked among that class." He drew out a chair, and sat down facing her, leaning slightly forward upon the intervening table. "Nor would I, only I recognize you do not comprehend. The source of your information is a bit polluted, Miss Maclaire.
After that had been accomplished, he would consider his own safety. He wondered if Hope really was her name, and whether it was the family cognomen, or her given name. That she was Christie Maclaire he had no question, yet that artistic embellishment was probably merely assumed for the work of the concert hall.
Do you happen to know any old woman about the right age who would make affidavit for you? She probably wouldn't have to go on the stand at all. Waite will cave in as soon as he knows we've got the evidence." He waited for an answer, but she hardly knew what to say. Then she remembered that Keith insisted that Miss Maclaire had no conception that there was any fraud in her claim.
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