"Oh! well, in my prowling around here, month after month," explained the hermit, "I managed to find a way the old cliff dwellers had for reaching the summit of the rocks, in case of necessity. The Moqui possessed the nerve required to crawl along the face of the cliff on a narrow ledge, and make the exit. He is miles away by now, and my daughter's inheritance is safe!"
"But—this paper here," asked Eugene, faintly; yet with curiosity governing his actions; "it seems to be a legal document, transferring a majority of the shares of the San Bernardino mine over to you if the further conditions are fulfilled within a certain time?"
"To be sure," laughed the other, "that was the first copy, you might say. There was some little defect about it, which we discovered after it was signed; so a second copy was made. If you had examined that one closer you would have found that the stamp necessary to make it legal was lacking. Somehow I happened to keep both copies, never dreaming how valuable this bogus one might prove."
Eugene threw the paper angrily to the floor.
"I'm done!" he cried, shaking his head. "Come on, Mr. Stanwix, if you are after me, and put the irons on; though I don't think you've got any show of convicting me of any unlawful game. I claim to have come here to interview this famous old gentleman about the wonderful discoveries he has made connected with these people of the cliffs. I expected to make a big sum in selling the article to a magazine. Perhaps you might give me more or less trouble if you cared; but then it's another thing to show proof. And the professor wouldn't like to stay out here long months, waiting for the case to come on."
"That's where you're right, my tall friend," chirped the little scientist; "and as my work is almost finished I do not mean to let anything detain me from getting my book in the hands of the printers."
"Hear that, Mr. Stanwix; he says we're going to get off easy, and you might as well wish us good day right now?" exclaimed Eugene, nodding to the Yavapai sheriff, whom he appeared to know.
"Well, there's no hurry," remarked that official, pleasantly. "On the whole, my opinion is that it would be good policy to keep you locked up until we know that the document has reached the hands of the one to whom it was sent, and who is, I believe, the father of our friend, Frank, here."
"I agree with you, Mr. Sheriff!" declared the old hermit of the cave. "Because if he were set free I fear he would chase after the United States mail, if a single hope remained of stealing my property. Yes, kindly keep him by you until I come around with news."