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Updated: May 8, 2025
The few scattered facts which Keith had collected all seemed to point to such a conclusion Hawley had sent the boy to Sheridan, where he would be out of sight, with orders to wait for him there, and the promise of a "stake" to keep him quiet. Then he had gone to Independence and Topeka seeking after Christie Maclaire.
The sheriff was first to recover speech, and a sense of duty. "Then this lets Miss Maclaire out of the conspiracy charge," he said, gravely, "but it doesn't make it any brighter for Hawley so far as I can see there's a robbery charge against him if nothing else. Any one here know where the fellow is?"
"And you might have even thought I had forgotten," he answered, releasing her hand reluctantly, "if you could have looked into the dining-room since, instead of staring out of these windows." "Why? How forgotten?" her eyes opening wide in surprise. "I had the pleasure of taking supper with Miss Maclaire." "Oh!" the exclamation decidedly expressive. "Yes, I come at once to you with the confession.
Should this prove true, then it was probable the gambler had not even yet discovered the identity of Hope, for if he had, he would scarcely venture upon taking her there, knowing that Keith would naturally suspect the spot. But Keith would not be likely to personally take up the trail in search for Christie Maclaire.
Did he know his prisoner was Hope Waite? or did he still suppose he was running off with Christie Maclaire? Could some rumor of Waite's appeal to the courts have reached the gambler, frightened him, and caused him to attempt this desperate effort at escape? and did he bear Miss Maclaire with him, hoping thus to keep her safely concealed until he was better prepared to come out in open fight?
He is a professional gambler, known on the frontier as 'Black Bart'; last night he was running a faro game across there in the 'Palace. I cannot help wondering what kind of business such a fellow could possibly have with you, Miss Maclaire." The woman's eyes flashed, hardening in their brown depths. "What right have you to ask?" she began indigently. "I am capable of deciding my own affairs.
If the girl will only play up to the part we won't need any other evidence her face would be enough." Keith could hear the beating of his own heart in the silence that followed. Here was a new thought, a new understanding, a complete new turn to affairs. Christie Maclaire, then, was not Willoughby's sister Hope.
"No; she didn't approve of the other, and told me to call her Hope, but I reckon she's Christie Maclaire all right." They rode on through the black, silent night as rapidly as their tired horses would consent to travel. Keith led directly across the open prairie, guiding his course by the stars, and purposely avoiding the trails, where some suspicious eye might mark their passage.
He looked about as though dazed, and the sheriff broke in not unkindly. "Well, Waite, if we are going to search for your daughter we better be at it. Come on, all of you; Miss Maclaire will be safe enough here alone." He took hold of Keith's arm, questioning him briefly as they passed down the hall. On the stairs the latter took his turn, still confused by what he had just heard.
"So Miss Maclaire evidently thought, judging from her manner. However she answered frankly enough, and, even defiantly, added the information that the gentleman had something to impart to her of the utmost importance, sarcastically asking me if I didn't wish I could be there and overhear. But sit down, Hope, until I tell you all that has occurred."
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