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BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

BY

WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE.

CHAPTER XXVI. (Continued). With Swensen striding beside him he walked to the bank building. Mitchell came down the street as they knocked on the side door. Bucky explained to him about Ferrill’s shortage and added that O’Sullivan believed he was connected with the big robbery later. “What do you think?” Mitchell asked.

"I think it's worth checking up. He might be. If Buchmann found but about the defalcation Ferrill may have murdered him on the theory that dead men tell no tales. From the killing it would be only a step to the robbery. Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb you know.” “You’ve come to get dope on him? Mind if I go in with you?” "Not at all. if Sergeant Swensen doesn’t care.”

Swensen did not. But the investigation had to be postponed. Receiver Ankeny and his staff had knocked off work for the day. An hour later O'Sullivan telephoned Mitchell, "I have that fellow McCarthy or McCall or Butch Millikan, whichever you want to call him. He has just been brought in from El Paso. Seeing that you helped get him, I thought maybe you’d like to be present when I put him over the hurdles.” Mitchell arrived at police headquarters so promptly that the chief was not ready to start the quiz. The district attorney wanted to be at the examination. and was delayed. Mitchell offered the chief a cigar and lit one himself. “Quick work,” he told .the officer. "Have you a line on his accomplices?” “We think we have the men spotted, but they haven’t been found yet. Red Grogan is one, and another is probably Mike Soreiti. The dragnet is out after them.”

“Good . . 1 just met young Cameron and Sergent Swenson at the First National. Bucky says you have discovered Ferrill is a defaulter.” “Yes. Looks like he is, in the first robbery anyhow.” The chief’s eyes gleamed savagely. “When we get through .with this business I’m going to tell Bucky. Cameron a few things in damned plain English.” “What’s he been up to now?” Mitchell asked. “You and he are thick as thieves. That’s all right. I’d just as soon tell him as you. Trouble with him is he’s a wise guy. He knows so much, and he goes around being mysterious about it. I won’t deny he has brains, but he has been mighty lucky too.” “Sounds interesting.”

“I don’t know where in time hte got it, but he has a photograph of fingerprints that match those Clem Garside’s visitor left on the living room table.”

Mitchell leaned forward, the eyes between his narrowed lids pin points of interest. “That so?. Then he has been holding out on me. We’re supposed to be working together, but the fact is we've both been a little slow in telling each otlier what we suspect. He wants to get credit for solving this case, just as much as I do. All the glory here goes to you, Chief, if we get anywhere. But I'd like through it to get a boost with my boss at Washington. You think Cameron has spotted the man who killed Garside?” “Yes, if the man who called on Clem that night did the killing. Fingerprints don’t lie.” “And you don’t know whose hand?”

“No. The young devil wouldn’t tell me. Said he still had some loose ends to draw together. I had half a mind to throw him in a cell. I’m fed up with the young squirt.” “What more is he waiting for? What else does he expect to prove?” “Wants to tie up this fellow' who killed Clem with the gang who robbed the First National. Says in twentyfour hours he’ll be ready to talk. His story is that be is afraid to tell me for fear I would tail the guy and scare him off. And I’ve been a cop for twenty-five years.”

Mitchell took his time to answer. "Bucky is a good fellow, Chief, even if he is so all-fired wise. Personally I’m not convinced that the man who left his fingerprints on the Garside table is the one who killed Clem. A dozen of us were milling round there for an hour. Any one of us might have put a hand on the table.” “No. I warned the boys to be careful.”

When District Attorney Ashley arrived O'Sullivan sent for the prisoner. Defiantly McCall walked into the room. He was a heavy set, tough looking specimen with small shifty eyes set in a Deefy veined face. • "You go by the name of Steve McCarthy and Bob McCall and Butch Millikan," the chief said harshly. "You were in the Colorado state penitentiary at Canon City four years for shooting a policeman while escaping after robbing a bank. Six months after you get out you helped hold up a bank at Goldfield and another at Crown Hill, both in Oklahoma. You served a term at Leavenworth for passing counterfeit. You did three years at San Quentin for another bank robbery.’’ 'McCall looked at his inquisitor with an impudent and sullen sneer. He said nothing. “Well, what have you to say?" O Sullivan snapped. "Not. a thing. You know so much I wouldn't interrupt." "Don't get hard with me,” the chief wanred. "You'll find it doesn't pay." The prisoner matched looks with him doggedly, in silence. "When did you last see Bed Grogan'.’" the officer demanded. "1 don't remember." "Where i. lie now?" "I wouldn't know." “Mike Sorctti." “Haven't seen him lor a year.” "That’s a lie." “If you know better than I do. why ask me?" "Get heavy and you 11 hav«- :1 sweet time as my guest. McCall.' O'Sullivan glared at him and tried again. "Just before you came to Toltec to rob the Valley Bank you got a letter from this town. Who wrote it?” “I didn’t ger any such letter, and 1 didn’t come here to rob the bank. “When you were arrested m El Paso 12 000 dollars was found under the , carpet in your room. Where did you , get that money?” ' McCall shook his head. I don t have to answer that.” "Two men identified you an horn ago as the driver of the bandit car picked you out of a dozen, men.

“They picked the wrong fellow. Probably you coached them.” “Why did you write the telephone number of the Valley Bank on the wall of your room?” "I didn't.” "Who was"the man that visited you twice at night in your room before the robbery?” “I don’t remember any such man.” “Was it Clem Garside?” | “No." “Jud Richman—Bucky Cameron— , Dan West—a bank clerk named Ferrill?'’ Between each name O’Sullivan > paused for an answer. ; “I told you nobody visited, me, far as I know.” “When you reached El Paso you were alone. Where did Grogan and Soretti and the other man leave you? Did they take a train for Minneapolis?” “You're barking up the wrong tree. I haven't seen them. I don’t know where they are.” O'Sullivan cajoled, stormed, threatened. The prisoner stuck to his tale. He had not robbed the bank. He did not know who did it. He had been brought back to be framed on account of his record. The chief sent him back to his cell. “He’s a fought nut and will take a good deal of cracking,” the district attorney suggested. “Yes, but 'l’ll soften him,” O’Sullivan said grimly. ‘We’ve got him and we’ll have his pals in a few days. What I'd like to do is to tie them up with their local friends, if any. I’m 1 not worrying. Before it comes to a trial one of those birds will squawk.” A car roared -up and crowded Kathleen to the side of the road. Two men jumped from the sedan and came toward her. “What’s the matter?”' she asked. "What do you want?” Already a bell of alarm was ringing in her. She did not like the way she had been Halted. “We want to talk with you, miss,” one of them said. He was a man n f medium size, dressed in a suit of loud checks and a derby hat. His eyes were light blue, cold and cruel and shallow. The other grinned, a thin-lipped crooked smile. Smaller than his companion, he was more furtive and more deadly. “Don’t you worry, lady,” he soothed, and the words slid out of the corner of the most vicious mouth the girl had ever seen. “This isn’t a holdup and it isn’t a snatch —not if you play ball with us.” CHAPTER XXVII. Kathleen was thoroughly alarmed. That both men were criminals she was sure. The little man was an Italian, probably born in this country; he had no trace of accent. “Get your car from there and let , me go,” she ordered, and knew that in spite of her firm voice the fear in her betrayed itself. “We know you’re the Garside girl,” the first man said sharply. “We’ll give the orders, miss, not you. We’re ■ going to have a talk with you. Savvy?” “I don’t understand. If it isn't, aholdup ” “We’re just pals of yours, like we were of your old man,” the smaller scoundrel jeered. The larger man said, “Don’t be scared of Mike. He won’t hurt a baby, not unless he was drove to it. We got to have a nice long talk, but not here on the main'road.” “There’s nothing I can talk about with you,’’she cried desperately. “If it’s some business you had with my father, he’s aead.” “That’s it,” the one called Mike nodded. “Business with your father, and seeing he has been rubbed out, with his daughter.” “Yep, that’s it,” the blue-eyed man ( said. “I’ll drive back to town with | you in your car. Mike will follow in ours. You can sit behind the wheel, but you’ll go straight to your house.” Kathleen drove back to Toltec and ] stopped in the driveway of her own ' home. She led the way into the living room. Mike parked his car in the road by the curb, ready for a quick getaway if necessary. Pete explained what they wanted. 1 "We've got a friend in stir here and we’ve got to spring him. As all three of us was mixed up in a deal with your father, we figured you'd be glad to help us.” The heart ol the girl died within her. What did they mean by claiming her father was mixed up in one of their nefarious schemes? She did not believe it. And yet she knew he had Queer acquaintances. For instance, Dan West, who very likely had murdered him. "H you would speak plainer, please." 1 said. “I don'- know what you mean b.v Jn_ a stir and springing him.” “He's in stir—in gaol—and we've got to get turn out.” "But how could I get pirn out, even if I wanted to do it?” “Maybe you better give her some of the low-down, Peter,” the small man said, out of the twisted corner of his vicious mouth. Tell her how her old man comes into this.” “I’ll do 'he talking, Mike," the other answered. “The less you know the better for you, miss. A man named McCall has just been brought here from El Paso and flung into the cooler. He was i friend of your fa I her. so naturally you'd want to help him get out." Kathleen turned on him a startled gaze. "He’s the man arrested for the robbery of the Valley Bank, isn't he? I saw his name in the paper.” Pete nodded. "Sure. Same guy. And like 1 said, seeing he was a pal of your father ” "He never was." she cried indignantly. “You'll find out whether he was or net if Butch ever comes to trial. Unless you want all your friends to know you're the daughter of a man who fixed it to have his own bank stuck up ■ "it’s not true." Kathleen interrupted. ; I don't believe a word of it.” "Ynu'd bettor start believing it right this minute. We got no time for monkey business. From right, damn now you begin helping us. See?" "I won't Im a hand for you.” (To be Continued.)

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAITA19390427.2.112

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Wairarapa Times-Age, 27 April 1939, Page 12

Word count
Tapeke kupu
2,055

BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL Wairarapa Times-Age, 27 April 1939, Page 12

BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL Wairarapa Times-Age, 27 April 1939, Page 12

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