BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL

Wairarapa Times-Age, 3 April 1939, Page 10

BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

BY

WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE.

CHAPTER VII. (Continued).

Bucky stopped the car in front of the “News” office. “Like to see Henning a minute, Tim,” he said. “You and Bud better come up with me. I wouldn't want some one to pick you off while you’re sitting in the car.”

A sign informed them that the editorial offices were upstairs. Through a swing door Bucky pushed into the city room and asked the girl at the switchboard where the office of Mr Henning was.

“Name, please,” she said, pausing in her gum-chewing.

“Tell him Bucky Cameron want to see him.”

She shot a slightly startled look at this mild youth with the little moustache. His appearance did not fit the stories she had been hearing about him. But she plugged in promptly, and a moment later a nasal voice was saying into the mouthpiece, “Mr Bucky Cameron to see you, Mr Henning.” The plug was pulled out. “Mr Henning will see you. Room seventeen. Second to the left.”

. “Wait here, boys,” Bucky said, and passed through the gate. The telephone operator had no interest in the weatherbeaten foreman or the lanky puncher. Her gaze followed the young man strolling toward the publisher’s office. The eyes of women often turned his way.

Bucky walked into the office upon the glass door of which was lettered the legend, “Edward Henning, Publisher.”

The editor was a rotund highly-col-oured little man with cold blue protuberant eyes. He had known Bucky since the young man was a youngster in grade school. But his greeting was coldly formal. “You wish to see me, Mr Cameron?” he said.

“I want to tell you the true story of what happened last night.” ■ Henning buzzed a bell at the side of his desk. :“I’ll call a reporter.” “How about my telling it first to Ned Henning?” asked Bucky with his engaging smile. “I’m a busy man, Mr Cameron.” “Any busier than you were when you used to trot up to see Uncle Cliff about extending your account in the days when the First National saved you from going under?” Bucky inquired with gentle irony.

The publisher flushed angrily. “Young man, I thought you said you had brought a news story.” “I have,” Bucky replied. “But that wasn’t the only reason I came.” His steady eyes rested on Henning, a touch of scorn in them. "I wanted to find out something.” “What is it?” snapped the editor. “It doesn’t matter,” the young man drawled, coolly disdainful. “I know the answer now.”.

A young man walked briskly into the room. “You sent for me, Mr Henning?” he said. “Get this story from Mr Cameron,” his chief ordered. /‘Bring it to me after it is written, Smith. You can take the story here.” Smith was a slender weary-eyed man. He shook hands with Bucky. “Glad to see you back, old-timer,” he said. “Missed you in lhe poker games. But if you stick around here you want to carry a rabbit’s foot and a big gun.” “Perhaps you’d better get the story, Smith, if you’re -quite ready,” Henning suggested tartly. , Bucky told what had occurred from the time Dutch Dieter came to the CC until the return of the party.

"Wish you’d bumped off four-five more of that gang, not mentioning any names,” Smith said cynically, gathering his notes to depart. “But right now that’s not the popular view. This town has been cussing those fellows for years. Now it has turned ’round and started cussing you. Boy I wouldn’t be here at all if I were you, but since you’re here you had better have eyes in the back of your head.” Henning said, curtly[ "I’ll wait here for the story, Smith.” Bucky walked out of the room with the reporter, not giving the editor another look.

/‘Old Cold-Eye going to crash through for you?” Smith murmured out of the corner of his mouth. “No. Haven’t you read the editorials in your own paper? Not a word in defence of Uncle Cliff. A lot of crocodile tears about a good man gone wrong and heap much indignation because he betrayed his trust.” “Hell, I wrote a couple of them,” Smith said. “Think of the old devil throwing down on your uncle after all Cliff Cameron di<j for him . . Well, so long. Hope you’ll be luckier than I think you will.” Henning stood in the doorway of his office. “Like to see you a moment, Smith.’"

Bucky explained, his sardonic gaze on the editor. “Mr Henning want to' be sure you do me justice, Bill.” “Get anywhere with him?” Tim asked Cameron as the young man rejoined his companions. "No. He’s gone over to Garside.” They returned to the car and drove to the courthouse. As Bucky drew up Kathleen Garside passed in her sports coupe. She gave no sign of recognition.

The sheriff was not in his office. Bucky asked the young woman at the typewriter to tell Haskell he would be back again in an hour.

Thev walked to the office of a law Hrm that bore the name of Lewis & Lewis on the door. A middle-aged man with a well-shaned bald head was giving some directions to a stenogranher. He looked tin, saw Bucky. and came forward with outstretched hand. “Heard vou were in town.” James Lewis said. “I’ve been wondering whnn vou would come around, boy.” “Mostly so far I’ve been calling on mv enemies,” Bucky told him with a grin. “Just getting ’round to my friends.”

“I heard about a call von made on some enemies last night.” the lawyer '■aid. “Come in and tell me about it. Biieky.”

Cameron and the foreman followed Lewis into the inner office. At their enhance a vbung woman looked un. Blandly Buckv asked “Am T disturbing a conference. Miss Garside?” Kathleen’s scornful gaze rested on him. “T thought you would be in jail by this time.” ‘Mot, vet. I’m on mv wav”

"It's all over town that a band of

ruffians went up into the Red Rock country, attacked some ranchers, and killed one of them.”

“That the story your friend West brought to Toltec?” he drawled. "I told you once I have no such friend,” she answered, her eyes bright and hard. She rose from her chair. "I’ll be going, Judge. I expect your clients are very anxious to have a private talk with you.”

“The criminals conferred with their attorney before being locked up,” Bucky said blithely, quoting from an imaginary newspaper. “A lovely woman was present to cheer them in their hour of need.” Kathleen looked at him with hot anger. Small white teeth strong and even, gleamed between red lips. “I’ll do my cheering when you’re convicted,” she said.

“Come, come, young people,” the lawyer protested, smiling them. A lawyer’s office is no place to bring a quarrel.” Ignoring this, the girl said, “Then I’ll leave you to do the best you can about that business; Judge,” and walked out of the room, chin in air. Lewis smiled ruefully. “Well, well, times cures all ills, one way or another . . . What can I do for you?”

Murphy said bluntly, “Nothing much. All we ask of you is to see we’re not sent to- the penitentiary or hanged.”

They gave the lawyer an account of their Red Rock expedition. He asked questions, gave rather doubtfully an opinion.

“We ought to be able to clear you of any legal difficulty in connection with that. I presume your men will all testify they were attacked, and that you can get evidence showing Dieter fired at you twice and was about to fire again.” “Four of our men can swear to the last point, all of us to the first,” the foreman said. “Good. Of course I know you weren’t in any way to blame. The point is to get others to see this. The bank robbery is the great stumbling block. If we could clear that up, so as to remove prejudice from the minds of people. I think Cliff was killed and his body hidden somewhere in a'shallow grave. If we could prove he is dead, that he didn’t rob the bank, and mat you didn’t help him, the rest would be plain sailing.” “We haven’t a thing to start from,” Murphy said despondently. CHAPTER VIII. “I don’t agree with you, Murphy,” Lewis differed. “We do have something to start from. To begin with, we feel absolutely sure’ Cliff could not have committed such a crime. It was not in his character. Moreover, if he had been doing it, a cool old-timer like Cliff would never have written all over the place that he had done it.” “Fine,” agreed the CC foreman. “We all know that, but it isn’t evidence you can take into court. The only way to clear Cliff’s name is to find the guys who did it, and pin their ears back.” “There’s never been a perfect crime, I've read,” Bucky said. “The men who did this have left plenty of clues if we have brains enough to pick them up. It’s like cutting a trail in the hills. Tim here can read signs a tenderfoot would never know existed, but compared with a dog or a wolf he is a rank amateur. If we’re not too dumb we can run down the real criminals.” “We saw them this morning up in the Red Rock country,” Murphy replied grimly. “I’m not too dumb to know that. Say the world, and I’ll join you in blasting them off the 'map.” “Would that prove them guilty, Tim?” asked Lewis, with a dry smile. “No, that’s out,” Bucky said. “I’m not running a private war. I came back to see justice done. This is a matter for brains and not blazing guns. Tt. is just as if we had before us a sheet of blank paper with the whole story of the crime written on it in invisible ink. Stamped all over this job are the tracks of the scoundrel who did it. Only trouble is that our eves and our brains aren’t trained fine enough to see them.” “Hmp!” grunted the foreman. “What vou aim to do about it Bucky? Get a new set of brains?”

“One thing is sure.” Bucky shrugged. “I can’t do much if I’m tied up in a cell at Sheriff Haskell’s hotel.” “I doubt if I can get you out, at least for the present,” Lewis said. “Maybe in a week or two, when the excitement has died down. Well, might as well be moving to the courthouse.”

The four men walked down the street toward the sheriff’s office. On the steps of the Valley Bank, just coming out, was the man who had .come to Toltec on the same train as Bucky. They had sat opposite each other on the diner. Bucky spoke to the stranger. “How is it going,. Mr Mitchell?” he asked. “Does Toltec look good to you as a location for your store?” The expression in the eyes Van Dyke Mitchell turned toward Bucky startled him. In them dark fury raged. For a fraction of a second only. Then a mask dropped over the face, leaving it smooth and placid. “Oh, it’s you. Mr Cameron,” Mitchell said, after a moment during which he had plainly struggled to get his voice under control. “I don’t know yet. With my limited capital such an investment is a serious move for me. so I want to take my time in deciding. I like the town. I’ll say that.” Bucky introduced Mitchell to his friends.

“I've been having a talk with Mr Garside,” explained the stranger. “Naturally he is interested in building up Toltec and takes an optimistic view of the opportunities here. He feels there ; s room for a first-class specialty men’s clothing store in the city.”

“You can’t go wrong if you take Clem Garside’s advice.” Murnhv said with heavy" sarcasm. “It will be absolutely disinterested.” “He seems a broad-gauge man.” Mitchell replied, answering the letter of •he foreman’s words. Hesitantly, he added, “I hone this Red Rock matter oeople are talking about, this morning is an exaggeration. Mr Cameron —that it won’t turn out—dangerous.” , Garside had come out of the bank and was standing on the top sten. He took in the group with one swift •glance, looked at Mitchell, looked longer at Buckv. •Tn ho Continued).