BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL

Wairarapa Times-Age, 28 March 1939, Page 10

BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

BY

WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE.

CHAPTER 11. (Continued). Garside retorted, callously brutal, “I came because it doesn’t suit me to have you strung up. If it did I wouldn’t lift a hand —not a hand.” “Interesting,” Bucky commented. He excused himself for a moment, washed the soap from his face, dried with a towel. '*■ “You have a proposition to make, Mr Garside,” he said casually, while he rolled and lit a cigarette. “Yes, sir.” In the bankier’s voice was the hectoring note of the bully. “You Camerons are through in this country—bucked out. Cliff knew it. That’s why he pulled off this crazy business of robbing his bank. “He didn’t rob the bank,” Bucky said. “I thought I told you that.” “Talk sense,” snapped Garside. “Don’t try to make a fool of me. Of course he did it. You’re asking mb to believe that some enemy robbed the bank, snuffed out this bookkeeper Buchmann, and carried off Cliff in his pocket, leaving no evidence against himself but plenty against Cliff.” The big man barked out an incredulous mirthless laugh. “I could certainly use a fellow with brains like that in my .business. Only there’s no such man.” “He was smart,” Buck conceded. “Just a little too smart, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” “Was Uncle Cliff a complete fool? Would he write it all over the place that he had done the job? Would he leave a letter implicating him? Would he throw away his revolver with two empty shells in the cylinder and the bullets from those shells in the body of Buchmann? Not unless he was loco.” “No crimes would be solved if those committing them didn’t make mistakes,” Garside said decisively. “The point is, they do.” “Why would Uncle Cliff run away? Why not fix it so that it would look as if bank robbers had done it? You’re throwing away all the knowledge you have of his character. He was a cool game frontiersman, a cattleman long before he became a banker. You can’t tell me he thought out this crime, then went into a panic after he had done it.” “Your claim is that some one is holding him prisoner?”

“I’m not making any claims —until I know more about it. He’s either being held somewhere, or else he was taken away and killed.” Abruptly, Garside pushed this theory from him. “Nothing to it. Listen. Cliff played a losing game for years. He lost money in cattle and in the bank. Hadn’t the least idea how to run a ■ bank. Too sentimental. Loaned money to old friends who couldn’t make good. Wouldn’t crowd them to pay. Carried them along instead of closing them out.” From the bed where Bucky had seated himself, he nodded agreement. “Just what I’ve been telling you. Not the kind of man to throw down the friends who trusted him, and loot the bank into which they had put their money because they knew him. He thought straight and lived straight. As a ranger he ran down some of the worst outlaws in this country. All his life he stood up and took what was coming to him. There isn’t enough circumstantial evidence in the world to make me think he did this crooked thing and sneaked off afterward.” “You’re one of these slick talkers,” Garside said contemptuously. “Better hire a hall. Write an article for the News about it.”

“Maybe I will,” Bucky said. ■ “Since you’re tarred with the same stick as Cliff I expect your story won’t go a long way,” Garside told him tartly. “I’ll not argue with you. I stand on the facts. Here’s my proposition. Find out where Cliff is holed up—if you don’t know. Get him and Miss Julia to sign to me a legal deed for their holdings in the ranch and the

bank. Turn over what interest you own in them. When you’ve done this I’ll write a cheque for twenty-five thousand dollars for you to divide among you.” “Generous,” Bucky drawled, a sardonic grin on his brown face. “The ranch isn’t worth more than a quarter of a million, let along the bank.” “Was worth that,” corrected the banker. “The equity in it today isn’t worth a thin dime. The land is mortgaged to the hilt, and a. lot of the cattle have been run off. With Cliff out of the picture, rustlers are going to get even busier. The bank is busted. I can salvage something out of the smash, and I’m the only man alive that can. My offer is too "liberal, but I’ll stand by it.” “We wouldn’t want you to rob yourself,” Btfcky said dryly. “I’ll take care of that, young man,” Garside snapped. “Don’t get funny with me. Keep in mind that you are in a bad jam. Right now I’m standing between you and the rope,” Bucky stroked his little moustache. He did not deny to himself that there was something in what Garside said. It had. not taken five minutes after his arrival to discover how inflamed public opinion was. With the enemies of the Camerons to stir this up, a mob might be induced to move against him. He did not underestimate the power of the banker. Better sing small and conciliate the man, regardless of his personal feelings. “I’m going out to the ranch today, and I’ll see Julia there, but I don’t know when I'll get in touch with my uncle. I’ll see what she thinks about it. I’ll agree with you that things don’t look any too rosy for us.” “You’re right they don’t,” Garside said sharply. “You’re sunk.” “I would go that far,” Bucky remonstrated mildly. “Now about this deal, Mr Garside —I can see plenty of difficulties. First, we’ll have to get in touch with my uncle. I don’t know how long that will take.” “Make it snappy.” The voice of Garside was hard, his manner arrogant. “Don’t make a mistake, boy. Cliff is whipped. It took me twenty years to do it, but he is down at last. If he doesn’t accept my proposition, he doesn’t get a cent. Put that clear to the pig-headed old fool.” Bucky nodded. “If and when I see him. Since I’m sure Uncle Cliff didn’t rob the First National, I can go into this with a clear conscience, but if you feel he did it maybe you’d rather drag | him back to justice.” i “I’m not the sheriff of this country.”

“But as a law abiding citizen ” “Forget it.” A threat rode roughly in the banker’s words. “No shenanigan. I’m holding the whip, and —I’ll use it. You’ll dance to my music. I intend to take over the CC ranch. Neither you nor Cliff can stop me. AU you can do is put ropes around your necks.”

“Which would be unpleasant,” Bucky admitted. Garside strode out of the room.

The lax look of surrender went out of the face of Bucky instantly. He rose from the bed, his eyes shining. Almost in a murmur he spoke his thoughts aloud.

When a crime is committed for money,” he said to himself, “find the man who profits most from it.” He padded up and down the room, his thoughts racing. “The fellow who robbed the bank got away with a big haul, but Garside gets both the bank and the Cc ranch, a right good pickup. Would' you call that coincidence, Bucky? Maybe, and maybe not. Wouldn’t it be possible for Garside to have helped coincidence along—by having the bank robbed? If he did, he would get the loot, the bank, the ranch, and at the same time be rid of the Camerons. What a swell break that would be for Garside.” Bucky smiled grimly. He had found one likely suspect. CHAPTER 111. Bucky telephoned to the CC ranch and asked Tim Murphy, the manager, to send a car to town for him. Even over the wire Bucky caught Tim’s excitement. “Toltec is no place for you, son—not now. You lie low, until the car gets to town.” Young Cameron laughed. “I’m not on the dodge, Tim. Shoot the car along. And Tim —put Julia on the wire.”

The voice of Julia came breathless. “It is you, Bucky—really? Oh, I need you so much! Father —father,—” She broke down for a moment. “Come as soon as you can, please.” “I’ll be there in time for lunch,” he promised. He walked downstairs to the lobby., A'big-bpdied man of middle age, bald and grey, walked into the hotel.

“I’ve been trying to get into touch with you for some time, Bucky,” he said.

“I’m here, sheriff,” Bucky said briefly. “About this bank robbery.” Haskell came forward, smiled, shook hands. He had the specious urbanity of the professional politician. “Though maybe you could give me some information. If we could find Cliff now, so as to get his story ” “I don’t know where he is.”

“Too bad. ’ No use beating about the bush, Bucky. This business doesn’t look any too good for him. Mind, I’m not giving my own opinion. I was alway friendly to Cliff. If you want to do him a service you’ll tell me where he’s at.”

■ “Hard of hearing, Haskell? I said I didn’t know.”

“Maybe you can explain that letter you wrote him.”

Bucky looked at the plump politician coolly. “Maybe 1 can. Is it necessary?”

“The boys think it is, Bucky. You’ll have to admit yourself it drags you into this affair.”

“Nothing to do with it. The letter referred to our fight against the Red Rock rustlers to protect our stock against their raids.”

“You said in it maybe you’d have to go to the penitentiary.”

“Yes. I meant that our enemies own too much of the law around this man’s town, and that if we had to shoot a few ruffians in defence of our property the incident might be twisted against us.” This cool young man disconcerted Haskell. He had a wholesome respect 'for the Camerons, down and out though they seemed to be at last.

“You hadn’t ought to talk that way, Bucky,” the officer reproved. “You know loose talk like that about the law not being straight is bad medicine.” “It’s worse medicine not to have it straight, Haskell. There are officers in this town who fit right in the vest pocket of Clem Garside.” The sheriff raised a fat protesting hand. “Now —now —now.”

“Did you come here to arrest me?” Bucky asked. “Yes, sir. Only a formality, as you might say.” “I see,” Bucky said dryly. “And who is going on my bond?” “Clem Garside.” “Good of Clem. Nothing like a tried and true friend.” “Clem’s all right. If you’ll come to to the courthouse with me we’ll fix it.” Together they walked down the street. They met Pete Quinn and Brad Davis. Jud Richman was with them. The black-haired cattleman frowned at Bucky, his eyes hungrily hostile. Quinn asked a question. “You locking him up, Haskell?” “Clem has gone bail for him.”

“Clem?” In blank surprise Quinn stared at him. “Has he thrown in with this scalawag?” “You’d better ask him, Pete,” the sheriff said amiably. Within half an hour Bucky was back at the Toltec House. He stood at the door a minute, then strolled up First. At the Crystal Palace he caught another glimpse of Quinn and Davis.

Those he met' stared at him. Some turned to watch his jaunty progress down the street. He could feel in the air their sullen anger. One woman let her resentment escape in bitter words. “Where's the money you and your uncle stole from me and my fatherless children?” she cried. ' Bucky stopped, said gently: “You’re wrong, Mrs Breed. My uncle never stole a dollar in his life. I’ve come here to find out who did steal it—and to get the money back if I can.” Gradually the anger died out of her face. “I never would have believed it of him,” she cried, a sob in her voice. “Money I had earned a dime and a quarter at a time taking in washing.” “Don’t believe it of him, because it isn’t true,” he urged. “Cliff Cameron would never have done that in the world.” “But he did. He's gone with the money.” 'To be Continued).