“B’longs to Deputy Jenney,” he said. “Ol’ Slim Toomey made it fer him out of a shell.”

CHAPTER XXI

“HASN’T Mr. Pell come in yet?” Carmel called to Tubal.

“Hain’t seen hide nor hair of him since last night.”

“Did he say anything about staying away?”

“Not a word. Mos’ likely he’s all het up learnin’ the Chinee language backward, or suthin’, and clean forgot the’ was sich a thing as a paper.”

She thought it queer, but, so occupied was her mind with the disclosures of Lancelot Bangs and with the events of last night, that the fact of Evan Pell’s unexplained absence did not present itself to her as a thing demanding immediate investigation.... She was wondering what to do with the evidence in hand. Where to go for more was a question easy to answer. She possessed a list of names, any one of whom could be forced to testify, and nobody could tell which one of them might assay some pure gold of fact which would lead her to her destination. She had reached Deputy Jenney. The match box was damning, yet it must be corroborated by other evidence.... Past Jenney the trail did not lead. So far it was a blind alley, blocked by the bulk of the newly appointed sheriff. In some manner she must go around or through him to reach Abner Fownes.

But Abner Fownes was not a man to permit himself to be reached. The county was his own now, held in the hollow of his hand. Its law-enforcing machinery was his private property to turn on or to turn off as his needs required. Suppose she did find evidence which would touch him with the pitch of this affair? Who would make use of the evidence? Who make the arrest?

Could she get to the sheriff’s office to lay before Jenney information which would result in his imprisonment and in Abner Fownes’s destruction? Suppose she went, as she must go, to the prosecuting attorney. Suppose warrants were issued? What then? Jenney’s office must make the service and the arrests.... It was more thinkable that the sun would start suddenly to travel from west to east than that such warrants should become efficacious.

She called Jared Whitefield on the telephone, desirous of his advice and assistance in this emergency, but Jared, she was informed, had gone away from town. He left suddenly after midnight, and had stated no destination.... Carmel felt terribly alone. She felt a need for Evan Pell—some one upon whom she could depend, some one to talk with, to discuss this thing with. Whitefield was gone.... Perhaps Evan had accompanied him. But why? She had a feeling Jared’s going away was in some manner connected with the telegram she sent him from the capital. But why had he taken Evan, and why had Evan left no word for her.... Her sensation was of one suddenly deserted by all the world. She felt young, inadequate, frightened.