Deeply mystified, Joshua obeyed and distributed the boxes over the unfloored ground.
“Set down, Slim,” softly ordered California Bill. “You, too, Tony. I’ll take this’n’, right next th’ door. Now, Tony, get ready for the hardest jolt that ever hit ye. I’ll hand it to ye first, an’ Slim here c’n tell ye th’ rest afterwards. This man, Tony—this thing, I mean—has helped to rob ye of a fortune amountin’ to a hundred and fifty thousan’ dollars. If we’d ’a’ known about it less’n a week ago we coulda saved ’er for ye. But to-night’s th’ last night f’r ye to claim it. An’ we’re ’way out in California, on top o’ Spyglass Mountain, while yer money’s back on th’ Atlantic, three thousan’ miles away. That’s th’ devilish end o’ th’ thing. Now Slim Wolfgang’s gonta tell ye th’ first of it. Start yer voice, Wolfgang.”
CHAPTER XXXIV
WHEN THE MOMENT CAME
AND so under the commanding eyes of California Bill the sordid story was told again—the story of a father’s avarice and his hatred for his firstborn, the story of a brother’s treachery, the story of the fortune that Cole of Spyglass Mountain had lost that very night.
Joshua sat white-faced and listened, while Mars traveled on its endless orbit, with the faithful telescope, unheeded by its master, slowly following it like a human finger.
Bill rose as the story reached an end. Slim Wolfgang sat, with head bowed forward, his long fingers interfretted and working nervously. Bill laid a hand along the shoulder of the astronomer, and the stubby fingers patted Joshua’s coat.
“It’s hell,” he said—“plumb hell! But it can’t be helped, and we’re gonta take it like a man. Ain’t we, Tony? Maybe it ain’t too late. Maybe ye c’n do somethin’ to prove fraud an’ get th’ money after all. You’n’ me’ll talk that over when we’ve disposed of th’ body. Now le’s go out an’ keep this bird inside, while we figger out th’ most horrible way to torture ’im.”
Joshua rose in the same daze that had wandered with him all that day. He laughed shortly as the door closed behind him. Then he laughed louder and louder, and the tears streamed down his face.
“When do I wake up?” he cried at last, still laughing hysterically. “This isn’t true, Bill. It’s all a dream. I know it. So many things couldn’t happen to a fellow all at once.”
Bill patted his shoulder again. “She’s true, son—dam’ true,” he told him.