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<h2 class="newchapter">XX BOB'S DENIAL</h2> Not long after Jimmy's visit to Kelshope, Margaret one evening rode up the trail from the station. Her cayuse carried a load of groceries, but when she set off her object was not altogether to bring home supplies. Wakening before daybreak, she imagined she heard the fence-rails rattle at the corner farthest from the house. Sometimes a deer jumped the fence, and when Margaret got up she went to the spot. She saw no tracks, but some time afterwards found a footmark where the trail left the clearing. The mark was fresh and she thought it was not made by her father's boot. Margaret said nothing to Jardine. Had a stranger come down the valley, he would have kept the smooth path, because in the dark the belt of slashing that generally surrounds a forest ranch is an awkward obstacle. Moreover, to account for a stranger's coming from the mountains was hard. Had Jimmy returned, he would have stopped at the house; but Bob would not and Margaret had undertaken to find Bob. When the Vancouver train rolled into the station nobody got on board, but a police trooper came from the agent's office, and going along the line, looked into the cars. Margaret had not remarked him before the train stopped and thought his curiosity ominous. If Bob had stolen past the ranch, he, however, had not tried to get on board and was hiding somewhere about. Margaret was puzzled and resolved to stop at the hotel and see Stannard. She admitted that her resolve was perhaps not logical, because if Stannard knew more about the shooting than others, he would not enlighten her. All the same, she meant to see him. Getting down where the wagon road went round to the front of the hotel, she tied her horse to a tree and took a path across the hill. The trees were thick, but the moon was bright and in places its beams pierced the wood. In front and some distance above her, she saw illuminated windows at the top of the hotel; then the terrace wall cut the reflection from the drawing-room and rotunda. The high wall was in the gloom, but at the bottom pools of silver light broke the dark shadow of the trees. Margaret knew the steps to the terrace. Had she gone to the front door, she must have waited at the office until a page brought Stannard, and she thought she would sooner find him in the rotunda before he knew she was about. She heard music in the drawing-room and somebody on the terrace talking, but the wall was high and when the music stopped all was quiet. In the woods one lifts one's feet with mechanical caution and Margaret was a rancher's daughter. Her advance was noiseless, but at a bend of the path she stopped. A few yards off, a man stood under a tree. His back was to Margaret, but the dark object across his shoulder was a slung rifle and she thought she knew him. Stannard leaned against a trunk opposite. He wore dinner dress and a loose light coat. He was in the moonlight, and when he shook his head Margaret thought his smile ironical. The other's pose was stiff and his fist was clenched. Margaret put her hand in the pocket of her deerskin coat and then moved a branch. The man turned and his hand went to his rifle. Margaret heard the sling rattle. "You don't want your gun, Bob; I know you. Besides, I've got a pistol," she said. Bob swore softly and Stannard lifted his hat. "Aren't you rather theatrical, Miss Jardine? I imagined gun pulling was out of date." "Bob's theatrical; but he's slow," Margaret rejoined, and although her heart beat her voice was steady. "I haven't yet pulled my gun." "It looks as if you had better leave yours alone," Stannard remarked to Bob. Bob's face got very dark, but Stannard smiled. "Did you want to see me or the other, Miss Jardine?" "I want to see Bob first, but you may remain," said Margaret and gave Bob a searching glance. "Who shot warden Douglas?" "I did not, anyhow," Bob replied fiercely. "I hadn't a gun and when I'd fixed the others I put out my lamp. I'd no use for using the pit-light. The fool plan was Deering's." "All the same, you quit!" "I sure quit. Somebody shot Douglas and the police knew he'd got a pick on me. They'd got to put the shooting on one of the gang." "Perhaps it's important the police knew you had a pick on Douglas," Stannard remarked. "For all that, I didn't use my gun," Bob rejoined. Margaret pondered. As a rule, Bob was marked by a rather sinister quietness, but now he talked with something like passion. He had stepped forward and a moonbeam touched his face. Margaret thought he knew, but he did not move out of the light. Somehow she felt she must believe his statement. Then Stannard turned to her. "Perhaps it's strange, but I rather think he speaks the truth." "If you did not use your gun, who did shoot Douglas?" Margaret resumed, looking at Bob. "I want to know. A trooper's watching the station, and if I shout, the hotel clerk will call him on the 'phone." Bob's passion vanished and Margaret thought his calm ominous. "That's another thing! Looks as if Jimmy plugged the fellow. He sort of allowed he done it and he started for the rocks." "I imagine Bob doesn't know," said Stannard. "Before you arrived he implied that I was accountable and demanded a hundred dollars. In fact, when he didn't get the sum he was much annoyed." "I was mad all right," Bob agreed. "My flour and tea's gone, and I can't hire up about the settlements, but if I'd a hundred dollars, I'd try to make the coast." He looked hard at Stannard and resumed: "Are you going to help me get off?" "Certainly not," said Stannard in a careless voice. "I am not as rich as you think, and to give you money would be rash, particularly when Miss Jardine is about." Margaret pulled out her wallet. "I can give you ten dollars, Bob; but I can shout to the people at the hotel. You know Mr. Leyland did not shoot Douglas." "I sure don't know," said Bob and gave Margaret a haughty glance. "Put up your wad; I've no use for your money. If you like, shout for them to 'phone the police." For a moment or two Margaret hesitated. She was persuaded Bob himself was not accountable, but she thought this was all she would know. She was hurt and humiliated, for now she had found Bob she had not helped Jimmy much. "Shall I shout?" she asked Stannard. "To choose is your part. I rather think Dillon is on the terrace and two or three athletic young sportsmen are at the hotel, but unless you are willing to use your gun, I doubt if Bob would wait until the others arrive. Then, although I don't know where Jimmy is, perhaps for the police to search the neighborhood would have some drawbacks." Margaret turned to Bob. "Get off! If you come back, I'll send the troopers after you." Bob went, and when he vanished in the gloom Stannard laughed. "I expect your arrival disturbed the fellow. At the beginning, he tried to force me to give him my wallet; then he took another line and hinted that Leyland was the guilty man. Well, he has gone. Will you come back with me and talk to Laura?" Margaret noted that he was not curious about her object for stopping at the hotel, but she said, "I wanted to see you. What do you know about the accident?" "I really don't know much, although I am persuaded accident is the proper word. Jimmy thought the unlucky shot was his and when he resolved to go off I agreed." "But you knew what the police would think about his running away!" "That is so," said Stannard coolly. "All the same, Jimmy was with me when I killed the big-horn, and when Douglas found us at the old ranch we were using pit-lights. One of our party shot him, and since we were again poaching, it hardly looked as if the shot were accidental. Jimmy is young and when he saw the risk he ran he was afraid. I thought he did run some risk, but, if he could cheat the police for a time, we might find a clue to the puzzle." Margaret remarked his frankness. Although she thought he did not know Jimmy had stopped at the ranch, his arguments were the arguments Jimmy stated he had used. Moreover, she admitted the arguments carried some weight. "We have not yet found a clue," she said drearily. "Still, if the warden gets better—— Do you know where he is?" For a moment or two Stannard was quiet. Then he said, "We can get no news about Douglas, and perhaps we ought not to expect much from his narrative. When you use a pit-lamp your hat-brim shades your face, and I imagine all Douglas saw was the light. Yet the police's reserve is strange." "Perhaps they know something we do not," said Margaret. "Well, my father is waiting and I must not stop." She went off and Stannard went up the steps to the hotel. In a corner of the veranda Dillon talked to Laura, and Stannard remarked the smile she gave the young man. Stannard knitted his brows and did not stop. In some respects, the marriage would be good, but it was not the marriage he had wanted Laura to make. All the same, Jimmy was obviously satisfied with the bush girl and Stannard thought she loved him. Well, he had done with Jimmy. When Margaret got down at the ranch she went to the kitchen and sat by the fire. For a time she said nothing and Jardine quietly smoked his pipe. Then she looked up with a frown. "I found Bob," she said. "He was talking to Mr. Stannard outside the hotel." "In the trees, I'm thinking! Did he tell ye much?" "He declared when they used the pit-lights he had not a gun and somehow I think he hadn't." "Maybe!" said Jardine, with some dryness. "Was it all ye got?" "That was all. I'm not as clever as I thought. Bob wanted Mr. Stannard to give him a hundred dollars." "Ah!" said Jardine. "Weel, I expect ye see——" "Stannard laughed. It was plain he was not at all afraid of Bob." "Stannard's no' a fool," Jardine remarked. "I thought his carelessness sincere. Besides, Bob soon afterwards implied that Jimmy hit Douglas. I imagine Bob really doesn't know who did use his gun." "It's possible," Jardine agreed. "My notion is, Jimmy had better keep the woods. In the meantime, I've no use for Bob's hanging round the ranch." "Bob will not bother us; I don't think he'll bother Mr. Stannard again," said Margaret and got some sewing. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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