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Page 40
The two Justices arose and passed out, the few witnesses and onlookers
drifting aimlessly in their wake. Slavin lowered himself ponderously
into the chair just vacated by the inspector, lit his pipe, and,
whistling softly, commenced to fill out a legal form. Yorke and Redmond
also took the opportunity to indulge in a quiet smoke as they chatted
together in low tones. The former good-naturedly tossed a cigarette over
to the prisoner, with the remark: "Have a smoke, Windy--it's the last
you'll get for some time."
Moran, slumped in a tipped-back chair, blew a whiff of smoke from a
lop-sided mouth. "Six months!" chanted he lugubriously, "an' they call
this a free country!--free hell!--
"_Oh, bury me out on th' lone prair-ee,
Where th' wild ki-oot'll howl over me,--_
"--might as well an' ha' done with it!"
They all laughed unsympathetically. "'Tis mighty lucky for yuh thim
sintences run concurrently instid av consecutively," was the sergeant's
rejoinder, "or ut'd be eight months yez ud be doin' stid av six."
The front legs of Moran's chair suddenly hit the floor with a crash.
"Lookit here, boys," he said earnestly, "that ther big mag'strate--him as
you call Gully--is that his real name? Wher does he come from? What
countryman is he?"
"English!" answered Yorke shortly. "Why? D'ye think an Englishman has
to run around with a blooming alias?"
"Well, now, yu' needn't go t' git huffy with a man!" expostulated Moran,
with an injured air. "Th' reason I'm askin' yu' is this": He paused
impressively, with puckered, thoughtful eyes. "That same man--if it
ain't him--is th' dead spit of a man as once hit ---- County, in Montana
'bout ten years back. Dep'ty Sheriff--I can't mind his name now. It was
a hell of a tough county that--then. Th' devil himself 'ud ha' bin
scairt t' start up in bizness ther." He shook his head slowly. "But I
tell yu'--when Mr. Man let up with his fancy shootin' it was th'
peaceablest place in th' Union. Th' rough stuff'd drifted--what was left
above ground. He dragged it too, later. I never heered wher he went."
"Ah!" remarked Slavin pityingly, knocking out his pipe. "Th' few shots
av hootch ye had tu throw inta yu' last night tu get ye're Dutch up must
be makin' ye see double, me man. If th' rough stuff he run inta there
was on'y th' loikes av yersilf he must have shtruck a soft snap." He
arose. "Put th' stringers on him agin, Ridmond, an' take um upstairs an'
lock um up! Yu'll be escort wid um tu Calgary whin th' East-bound comes
in--an' see here, look! . . . I want ye tu be back here agin as soon as
iver ye can make ut back. Tchkk!" he clucked fretfully, "I wish this
autopsy an' inquest was thru', so's we cud git down tu bizness. Phew!
this dive's stuffy--let's beat ut out a bit!"
Standing on the sidewalk they gazed casually at the slowly approaching
figures of Inspector Kilbride and Mr. Gully. The two latter appeared to
be engaged in a vehement, though guarded conversation--stopping every now
and again, as if to debate a point.
"Here cometh Moran's 'dep'ty sheriff,'" was Yorke's facetious comment.
"By gum, though!" Redmond ejaculated, "the beggar would make a good stage
marshal, wouldn't he? . . . with that Bret Harte, forty-niner's moustache
and undertaker's mug, and top-boots and all, what?"
"And a glittering star badge," supplemented Yorke dramatically, "don't
forget that! and two murderous-looking guns slanted across his hips and--"
"Arrah, thin! shut up, Yorkey!" hissed the sergeant in a warning aside,
"they'll hear yez. Here they come."
Presently the five were grouped together. Inspector Kilbride's stern
features were set in a thoughtful, lowering scowl. Mr. Gully's tanned,
leathery countenance looked curiously mottled.
"Sergeant!" The inspector clicked off his words sharply. "This is a bad
case. We've just been viewing the body--Mr. Gully and I." With
mechanical caution he glanced swiftly round. "Let's get inside and go
over things again," he added.
Seated in the privacy of the hotel parlour the crime was discussed from
every angle with callous, professional interest. Kilbride and Slavin did
most of the talking, though occasionally Gully interpolated with question
and comment. He possessed a deep, booming bass voice well-suited to his
vast frame. His speech, despite a slightly languid drawl, was
unquestionably that of an educated Englishman. Yorke and Redmond
maintained a respectful silence in the presence of their officer, except
to answer promptly and quietly any questions put directly to them.
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