“You don’t bear him any grudge, do you?”
“No, Jack. He wasn’t responsible for his actions. What a miserable life he had!”
“He was the one who stole our food at the ghost town, wasn’t he?” Willie speculated.
Warner nodded. “Yes, Hansart used that place as a sort of base for supplies he carried in. He had caches of canned food and other items stored where he could dig them up when he wanted them. He ventured out only when he couldn’t avoid it. Even then, he never in recent years showed up in Elks Creek. That’s why everybody assumed he had died.”
“Hansart, of course, was responsible for the area’s bad reputation,” Mr. Livingston added. “He considered the valley—the cabin—the gold—everything—his. He drove off everyone who ventured that way.”
“What of Walz?” Ken asked presently. “Did you talk to him again?”
“Only briefly,” Mr. Livingston returned. “He is in a savage mood.”
“Recovering?”
“Oh, yes. He’ll be as well as ever, once his leg mends. Naturally, he denies everything.”
“It will do him no good,” Warner interposed. “I’ve talked to the sheriff. A guard is being posted at his hospital room.”