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Updated: July 11, 2025
Norcross started; something seemed to snap into place; he was again the silent, guarded baron of the railroads. He dropped the locket into the box, closed it. "The automobile," said his secretary. Norcross nodded, and indicated the box. The secretary bore it away. "Come up to dinner Tuesday," said Norcross in his normal tone.
"No, you mustn't do that; that would only make more talk. Go on with your plans. I'll stay here with you. It won't take you but a couple of days to do the work, and Wayland needs the rest." "But suppose Cliff hears of this business between you and Norcross and comes galloping over the ridge?" "Well, let him, he has no claim on me." He rose uneasily.
His face showed a graver line. "It couldn't be helped. The horses had to be followed, and that youngster couldn't do it and, besides, I expected to get back that night. Nobody but an old snoop like Seth Belden would think evil of our girl. And, besides, Norcross is a man to be trusted." "Of course he is, but the Beldens are ready to think evil of any one connected with us.
I've followed your record pretty close ever since you did that hotel job in Saratoga, and I never knew you to use your gun before. Why did you kill Norcross?" Kernan stared for a few moments with concentrated attention at the slice of lemon in his high-ball; and then he looked at the detective with a sudden, crooked, brilliant smile. "How did you guess it, Barney?" he asked, admiringly.
There's no use trying to cover anything up." Here was the place for Norcross to speak up and say: "Never mind, I'm going to ask Berrie to be my wife." But he couldn't do it. Something rose in his throat which prevented speech. A strange repugnance, a kind of sullen resentment at being forced into a declaration, kept him silent, and McFarlane, disappointed, wondering and hurt, kept silence also.
"The horses got away, and he had to go back after them," again responded Berrie, who found the scrutiny of the other girl deeply disconcerting. "When do you expect him back?" "Any minute now," she replied, and in this she was not deceiving them, although she did not intend to volunteer any information which might embarrass either Wayland or herself. Norcross tried to create a diversion.
"Isn't this a charming valley?" Siona took up the cue. "Isn't it! It's romantic enough to be the back-drop in a Bret Harte play. I love it!" Moore turned to Wayland. "I know a Norcross, a Michigan lumberman, Vice-President of the Association. Is he, by any chance, a relative?" "Only a father," retorted Wayland, with a smile. "But don't hold me responsible for anything he has done.
Belden knew that Berrie had started back on Thursday with young Norcross made it easy for the villagers to discover that she had not reached the ranch till Saturday. "What could Joe have been thinking of to allow them to go?" she said. "Mr. Nash's presence in the camp must be made known; but then there is Clifford's assault upon Mr. Norcross, can that be kept secret, too?"
"Yes," recovering herself, "but I'm nearly well now how are they all in Killamet?" "Oh, so-so, I guess; but I haven't been home to stay any since last month soon after Cousin Prue was here, it was. I had business in Norcross yesterday, and I come over from there by train. Mother wrote about your having the fever."
Whatever motive impelled Robert H. Norcross to his mysterious operations in L.D. and M. during the past two days, it looks rather like stock manipulation than the larger financing which has hitherto marked his career.
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