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Page 49
"Well?" asked John Engle who had arrived, talked with Struve, and now
looked anxiously to Patten. Patten shrugged.
"Heavy-caliber bullet ripped along the side of his head," he said
thoughtfully. "I am going to make a second examination now. Doubtless
just the shock stunned him. That or striking his head as he pitched
forward; there's another slight wound, a scalp wound, showing where his
head hit as he fell."
A moment later Tom Cutter came in hastily, stood for a little staring
with frowning, troubled eyes at the quiet form on the bed, and went
away, tugging at his lip, his frown deepening. He had his hands full
to-night, had Tom Cutter, and no one but himself knew how he wanted Rod
Norton to tell him just what to do, to show him the way to make no
mistake. Leaving the room he had gone no farther than the front door
when he swung about and returned.
"May I have a word with you, Mr. Engle?" he asked.
Engle nodded and followed him silently. Out in the street, in the full
light of Struve's porch-lamp, Cutter stopped, glancing about him to
make sure that he was not overheard.
"You know all about the shooting of Brocky Lane up in the mountains,"
he said hurriedly. "Rod told me you did. Well, I just gathered in
Moraga!"
"Moraga?" muttered Engle. "He has seen Galloway, then? And told him
all about our knowing the rifles were cached in the old caves?"
"I found him at the Casa Blanca," said Cutter, the worried look in his
eyes. "Somebody shot out the light when the mix-up started, you know.
I've a notion it was Moraga. He was in one of the little
card-rooms . . . putting on his shoes! I got his gun; he'd fired just
one shot. The muzzle of it was bloody."
"If he has told Galloway. . . ."
"But I don't believe he has. Struve says that just as Norton started
things he saw a man run in from the cottonwoods and duck into the
house. It was Struve's job to see that nobody got out and he let him
go by. If it wasn't Moraga, who was it? And, when I grabbed him just
now, the first thing he said was: 'I want to talk with Galloway.'"
"You didn't let him?" demanded Engle quickly.
"No. A couple of the boys have walked him off down the road. I've got
Galloway and Antone in the jail. Now, what I want is some advice.
What am I going to do with this job until Rod Norton comes to and takes
a hand . . . if he ever does," he muttered heavily.
"It's clear that you've got to keep Moraga away from Galloway; if they
haven't already had a chance to talk it's a pure Godsend and it's up to
you that they don't get that chance."
"Yes,", admitted Cutter slowly. "But I'm the first man to admit that
I'm all muggled up. What did Moraga have his shoes off for? If he
shot out the light, why did he do it? And how'd he get blood on his
gun?"
Engle shook his head.
"All questions for the district attorney later, Tom," he answered.
"But, if you want any advice from me, here it is: Get Moraga out of the
way on the jump. He is supposed to be in jail in the next county; he
must have broken out. Send a man to Las Palmas to telephone to Sheriff
Roberts; send Moraga along with him. And, whatever you do, keep Jim
Galloway where you've got him. I think we've got our case against him
to-night."
"That's what I've been thinking. I guess that's what Norton would do,
eh?"
"Sure of it," said Engle promptly. "Find out, if you can, whether
Moraga got a chance to talk with Galloway. I'm going back to the house
to let my wife and Florrie know what has happened."
Engle hurried to his home, told what had happened, and, leaving his
wife anxious, his daughter weeping hysterically, returned to the hotel.
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