“You wanted the gold from the very first,” he said. “It was you, wasn’t it, who broke into Old Stony’s cabin back in Rocking Horse? You beat him when he woke up and found you trying to steal the map!”
The motel owner’s lips trembled, for he was not willing to answer.
“And it was you,” Jack went on, “who stole Stony’s nuggets from the bag of pinto beans. If you want any help, admit the truth.”
“Am I going to die?” Walz asked, his voice quavering.
“You’re miles from a doctor,” Jack reminded him. “Unless we can get help to you, the situation is bad.”
“I’m going to die,” Walz groaned. “I—I may as well tell you the truth and get it off my conscience.”
“You slugged Old Stony?”
“It was an accident. I went to the cabin, hoping to get the map—yes, I admit that. The old man woke up and tried to stop me. I flew into a rage and hit him. Then I ran.”
“Old Stony never knew it was you who tried to rob him,” Jack said. “You can be thankful for that.”
“I felt terrible about it,” Walz sobbed. “I didn’t mean to hurt Stony. Why, I liked the old duffer. I gave him a good home. I fed and clothed him.”