Though the frost was almost arctic outside, the rotunda was pleasantly warm and was dimmed, in spite of its glaring lamps, with a haze6 of cigar smoke. In front of the great plate-glass windows rows of men sat in tilted7 chairs, their feet on a brass8 rail, basking9 in the dry heat of the radiators10. Drummers and land speculators were busy writing and consulting maps at the tables farther back among the ornate columns, and the place was filled with the hum of eager voices. The town was crowded with homestead-selectors, and many, braving the rigors11 of winter, were camping on their new possessions in frail12 tents and rude board shacks, ready to begin work in the spring. Indeed, determined13 men had slept in the snow on the sidewalks outside the land 285 offices to secure first attention in the morning when cheap locations were offered for settlement.
Laxton had had a tiring day, and he was leaning back lazily in his chair, watching the crowd, when a man entered the turnstile-door, which was fitted with glass valves to keep out the cold. He looked about the room as if in search of somebody; and then after speaking to the clerk came toward the land agent. Laxton glanced at him without much interest, having already as much business on his hands as he could manage. The stranger wore an old fur-coat and looked like a rancher.
“Mr. Laxton, I believe,” he said, taking the next chair.
The land agent nodded and the other continued:
“My name’s Prescott. I’ve come over from Sebastian to have a talk with you.”
“I suppose I’ll have to spare you a few minutes,” said Laxton with more resignation than curiosity.
“In the first place, I want to ask if you have ever seen me before?”
Laxton looked at him with greater interest. The man’s brown face was eager, his eyes were keen, with a sparkle in them that hinted at determination.
“Well,” he said, “I can’t recollect15 it.”
“Would you be willing to swear to that?”
“Don’t know that I’d go quite so far; I don’t see why I should.”
Prescott took out a sheet of paper with some writing on it.
“Do you recognize that hand?”
“No,” said the agent decidedly. “It’s a bold style that one ought to notice, but I don’t think I’ve seen it.” Then he looked up sharply. “What you getting after?” 286
“I’ll explain in a minute. Let me say that I’ve examined the land sale record here, and have found a deal registered that you were concerned in. It was made in the name of Cyril Jernyngham.”
Laxton started.
“Look here,” he said, “I’ve had a lot of trouble over this thing since I was fool enough to write to the police; in fact, I’ve had enough of the Jernyngham case.” He broke off for a moment as a light dawned on him and then went on: “It’s a sure thing I haven’t met you, but, when I think, there was a young lad something like you among others in blanket-coats in a photograph a sergeant16 brought me. Montreal snowshoe or toboggan club, I guess.”
“I don’t know how the police got it. But what did you tell the sergeant?”
“Said it was no use showing me a photograph like that, because I didn’t trade with kids.”
“Then, as I’m the man the police suspect of selling that land of Jernyngham’s, it would be a great favor if you’ll tell me candidly17 what you know about the matter.”
“Hang up your coat,” said Laxton; “I’ll do what I can. Anyway, you’re not the fellow I made the deal with.”
He drew out a cigar-case when Prescott came back.
“Take a smoke and go ahead. I’m willing to talk.”
“First of all, turn over the paper I gave you and look at the signature.”
“Cyril Jernyngham!” exclaimed Laxton, astonished. “I see your point—the hand ought to be the same as that on the sale registration18 form, and I might have been expected to recognize it, but I can’t remember all the writing I see. However, we’ll compare it with the other signature to-morrow.” 287
“When you do so, you’ll find a difference.”
“Ah!” said Laxton. “Then whose hand is this?”
“Cyril Jernyngham’s. It was written in my presence, and what’s more important, in the presence of another man. Now will you tell me what the fellow who made the deal with you was like?”
Laxton did so, and Prescott thought the description indicated Wandle, though he was not the only man in the neighborhood of Sebastian to whom it might apply.
“Did you notice how he was dressed?” he asked.
“He had on a suit of new brown clothes.”
Prescott sat still, his brows knitted, his right hand clenched19. The reason why the clothes had been hidden near his house was obvious, but there was something else: a blurred20 memory that was growing into shape. Ever since he had heard about them from Muriel, he had been trying to think where he had seen the clothes, and at last he seemed to hold a clue. In another few moments it led him to the truth; everything was clear. He had once met Wandle driving toward the settlement wearing such a suit, and by good fortune he had shortly afterward21 been overtaken by a farmer who must have seen the man. In his excitement he struck the table.
“Now I know!” he cried. “The man who forged Jernyngham’s name hid his clothes near my house to fix the thing on me. I owe you a good deal for your help in a puzzling matter.”
The agent was sympathetic, and after Prescott had given him an outline of his connection with the case, they sat talking over its details. Laxton had a keen intelligence and his comments on several points were valuable. When Prescott went to sleep it was with a weight off his 288 mind; but his mood changed the next day and he traveled back to Sebastian in a very grim humor.
Open and just as he was in all his dealings, Wandle’s treachery infuriated him. There would, he felt, have been more extenuation22 for the trick had the man killed Jernyngham, but that he should conspire23 to throw the blackest suspicion on a neighbor in order to enjoy the proceeds of a petty theft was abominable24. He must be made to suffer for it. However, Prescott did not mean to trouble the police. He had had enough of their cautious methods. He determined to secure a proof of Wandle’s guilt25, unassisted, without further loss of time, and to do this he must obtain a specimen26 of the man’s writing to compare with that on the land sale documents. There was, he thought, a way of getting it.
Reaching Sebastian in the evening, he was going to the livery-stable to hire a team when he met an acquaintance who offered to drive him home. As the man would pass within a mile or two of Wandle’s homestead and there was a farm in the neighborhood where he might borrow a horse, Prescott agreed. His companion found him preoccupied27 during the journey. He put him down at a fork of the trail, and Prescott, walking on quickly through the darkness, saw Wandle’s team standing28 harnessed when he reached the house. This was a sign that their owner had recently come home, and Prescott, opening the door without knocking, abruptly29 entered the kitchen. The lamp was lighted and Wandle, standing near it with his fur-coat still on, looked startled. Prescott was sensible of a burning desire to grapple with him and extort30 a confession31 by force, but there was a risk of the crude method defeating its object, and with strong self-denial he determined to set to work prudently32. 289
“I see you have just come in, and I’m anxious to get home, so I won’t keep you more than a few minutes,” he said.
“How did you come?” Wandle asked. “I didn’t hear a team.”
“Harper drove me out. I walked up the cross trail; but that doesn’t matter. The last time we had a talk we fell out over the straightening up of Jernyngham’s affairs.”
“That’s so; you still owe me a hundred dollars.”
“I don’t admit it,” said Prescott, who had laid his plans on the expectation of this claim being made. “Anyhow, the dispute has been dragging on and it’s time we put an end to it. It was the small items you wanted to charge Jernyngham with that I objected to, and I may have cut some of them down too hard. Suppose you write me out a list.”
“I can tell you them right away.”
“Put them down on paper; then we can figure them out more easily.”
“Don’t know if I’ve any ink,” said Wandle. “Haven’t you a notebook in your wallet? You used to carry one.”
Prescott made a mistake in putting his hand into his pocket, which showed that he had the book, but he remembered that it would not suit his purpose to produce it.
“I’m not going to make out your bill,” he said. “That’s your business. Give me a proper list of the disputed expenses and we’ll see what can be done.”
He was a poor diplomatist and erred33 in showing too keen a desire to secure a specimen of the other’s handwriting, which is a delicate thing to press an unskilful forger34 for. Wandle was on his guard, though he carefully hid all sign of uneasiness. 290
“Well,” he said, “I’ll send you a list over in a day or two; after all, if I think them over, I may be able to knock something off one or two of the items. But now you’re here, I want to say that you were pretty mean about that cultivator. They’re not sold at the price you allowed me.”
This was intended to lead Prescott away from the main point and it succeeded, because, being at a loss for an excuse for demanding the list immediately, he was willing to speak of something else while he thought of one.
“You’re wrong,” he said curtly35. “You can get them at any big dealer’s. I looked in at a western store where they stock those machines, yesterday, and the fellow gave me his schedule.”
He had taken off his mittens36, but his hands were stiff with cold, and when he felt in his pocket he dropped several of the papers he brought out. The back of a catalogue fell uppermost, and it bore the words, “Hasty’s high-grade implements37, Navarino.” Near this lay an envelope printed with the name of a Navarino hotel.
There was nothing to show that Wandle had noticed them—he stood some distance off on the opposite side of the table—but Prescott was too eager in gathering38 them up. Opening the catalogue, he read out a description of the cultivator and the price.
“Taking the cash discount, it comes to a dollar less than what I was ready to pay you,” he said. “Now make out the list and we’ll try to get the thing fixed39 up before I go.”
Wandle sat down for a few moments, for he had received a shock. His suspicions had already been aroused, and Prescott’s motive40 in going to Navarino was obvious; besides, he thought he had read Laxton’s name 291 on the envelope. He could expect no mercy—Prescott’s face was ominously41 grim—and there was no doubt that, having seen Laxton, he knew who had hidden the brown clothes. The game was up, but, shaken by fear and rage as he was, he rose calmly from his seat.
“Well, since you insist on it, I guess I’ll have to write the thing; but I can’t leave my team standing in the frost. Sit down and take a smoke while I put them in.”
Prescott could not object to this. He lighted his pipe when Wandle left him. He heard the door shut and the horses being led away, for the stable stood at some little distance from the house, and after that no further sound reached him. Mastering his impatience42, he began to consider what he would best do when Wandle had given him the list. He supposed he ought to hand it over to Curtis, but he was more inclined to go back to Navarino and compare the writing with the signature on the documents relating to the sale. Then, having proof of the forgery43, he would communicate with the police. He was sensible of a curious thrill at the thought that the suspicion which had tainted44 him would shortly be dispelled45.
After a while it occurred to him that Wandle should have returned, but he reflected that the man might be detained by some small task. After waiting some minutes longer, he walked to the door, but finding that he could not see the entrance to the stable, he stood still, irresolute46. He thought he had been firm enough, and to betray any further eagerness would be injudicious. The matter must be handled delicately, lest Wandle take alarm.
When he had smoked out his pipe, Prescott could no longer restrain his impatience. He hurried toward the 292 stable. The moonlight fell on the front of the building and the door was open; but Prescott stopped with a start, for all was dark inside and there was no sign of the vehicle in which the rancher had driven home. A worse surprise awaited him, for when he ran inside and struck a match it was clear that Wandle and his team had gone.
Prescott dropped the match and stood still a few moments, in savage47 fury. There was no doubt that he had been cleverly tricked; Wandle, guessing his object, had quietly driven away as soon as he had led the team clear of the house. Moreover, Prescott had good cause for believing that he would not come back. With an effort, he pulled himself together. To give rein48 to his anger and disappointment would serve no purpose; but he had no horse with which to begin the pursuit. He remembered having told Wandle so when he first entered the house. Striking another match, he lighted a lantern he found and eagerly looked about. A plow49 team occupied two of the stalls, and though they were heavy Clydesdales with no speed in them, they would be capable of traveling faster than a man on foot. As he could not find a saddle, he ran back to the house and returned with a blanket. A bit and bridle50 hung on a nail, he found a girth, but his hands were cold and he spent some time adjusting straps51 and fastening on the blanket before he led one of the horses out and mounted.
The moonlight was clear enough to show him that there were no fresh wheelmarks in the snow. Wandle had kept to the trail, and Prescott surmised52 that he would travel south toward the American boundary. Although he feared he would lose ground steadily53, he meant to follow, since there was a chance of the fugitive’s being delayed 293 by some accident, which would enable him to come up. It was extremely cold, Prescott was not dressed for riding, and the folded blanket made a very bad saddle. At times pale moonlight shone down, but more often it died away, obscured by thin cloud. The trail, however, was plain and the big Clydesdale was covering the ground. Prescott’s hands and feet grew numbed54, and there was a risk in this, but he trotted55 steadily on.
After a while he heard two horsemen following him. He did not pull up; time was precious, and if the others wished to overtake him, he had no doubt that they could do so. During the next few minutes it became evident that they were gaining, and he heard a cry which he answered without stopping. Then, as the moon came through, another shout reached him, sharp and commanding:
“Stop, before we drop you!”
This was not to be disregarded. Pulling up, he turned his horse. Two mounted men rode furiously down on him, loose snow flying about their horses, and one poised56 a carbine across his saddle. Struggling to check his horse, he swept past, shouting to his comrade:
“Hold on! It’s Prescott!”
They were a little distance ahead when they stopped and trotted back, and Prescott waited until Curtis pulled up at his side.
“Where were you going?” cried the corporal.
“After Wandle.”
“I might have guessed!” said Curtis savagely57, and turned to Stanton. “This explains the thing.”
“How far is he ahead of you?” Stanton asked.
“He got off half an hour before I did, as near as I can guess.” 294
They sat silent for a moment or two, breathless and crestfallen58, their horses distressed59.
“Let’s get into the lee of the bluff60 yonder; this wind’s keen,” Curtis said.
“You’re losing time,” Prescott objected.
“We’ve lost it,” Curtis told him grimly. “My mount has been out since noon, and it’s near midnight now. Stanton’s isn’t much fresher.”
Prescott rode with them to the bluff, where they got down.
“That’s a relief; it’s quite a while since I could feel the bridle,” said Curtis, turning to Prescott. “How did you scare Wandle off? Be as quick as you can!”
Prescott briefly61 related what led to his call at the farm and the corporal’s face was filled with scornful anger.
“This is what comes of you blamed amateurs butting62 in!” he remarked. “Jernyngham was bad enough, but he can’t come near you at mussing up our plans. Guess you don’t know that we’ve been watching Wandle for some weeks, ready to corral him, and you start him off like this, without warning.”
“I’d reason to believe you were watching me,” Prescott dryly rejoined.
“Oh, well,” said Curtis, “that’s another matter. Anyhow, I had trailed Wandle to Kelly’s place since dark, and I’d trotted round to see if he’d got back to his homestead when I found that he had gone. Stanton and I were prospecting63 out this way when we struck your trail.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“We’ll make the next farm and try to borrow horses. Then I’ll ride to the railroad and get the wires to work. Stanton will keep the trail by Long Lake.” 295
“Then I’ll push right on by the Traverse. There’s a ranch14 I should make by daylight where I might get a mount. I’m going to see the thing through.”
Curtis considered this.
“Well,” he said, “I guess you can’t do much harm, and Wandle may not have gone by the lake after all. You can pick up Stanton if you find out anything, and I’ll try to join you from one of the stations along the line.”
They mounted, and on reaching the trail forks where they must separate, Prescott turned to Curtis.
“Aren’t you afraid of letting me out of your sight?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Curtis answered with a smile. “You’re not quite so important to us now; and I’m not running much risk, anyway, considering the horse you’ve got.”
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1
rotunda
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| n.圆形建筑物；圆厅 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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shacks
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| n.窝棚，简陋的小屋( shack的名词复数 ) | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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10
radiators
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| n.（暖气设备的）散热器( radiator的名词复数 )；汽车引擎的冷却器，散热器 | |
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rigors
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| 严格( rigor的名词复数 )； 严酷； 严密； （由惊吓或中毒等导致的身体）僵直 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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registration
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| n.登记，注册，挂号 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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extenuation
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| n.减轻罪孽的借口；酌情减轻；细 | |
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conspire
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| v.密谋，（事件等）巧合，共同导致 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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extort
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| v.勒索，敲诈，强要 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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prudently
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| adv. 谨慎地，慎重地 | |
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erred
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| 犯错误，做错事( err的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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forger
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| v.伪造；n.（钱、文件等的）伪造者 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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forgery
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| n.伪造的文件等，赝品，伪造（行为） | |
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44
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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45
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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plow
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| n.犁，耕地，犁过的地；v.犁，费力地前进[英]plough | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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51
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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52
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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53
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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56
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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57
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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58
crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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59
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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60
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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61
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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62
butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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63
prospecting
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| n.探矿 | |
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