It was Helen Mowbray, the sister of the major and of Farnsworth, or Fred Caruthers, to give him his real name—the woman who had been strangled to death in her house at Rodeo.
This was a shock indeed.
The complications which had arisen in these few hours were sufficient to shatter the strongest nerves, and Ted himself trembled a little at the possibilities unfolded by this unforeseen and unexpected knowledge, while it entirely unnerved the major, and left him as weak as a child.
What was to be done? It was not likely that Fred Caruthers could be found at once. That he knew that it was his sister who had been murdered, and that he was charged with the crime, would be sufficient to spur him on and on, his brain and heart filled with horror. And that he had just found his brother, who might have given him all the moral support he needed at such a time, only to be driven from him by the fear of mob law, which he knew would give him no chance whatever for his life, was an additional sting.
The major sat on the edge of the bed with drooping head, holding in one hand the letter from his dead mother, and in the other the photograph of his murdered sister.
He was too dazed with the suddenness of the shock with which the revelation had come to him to stir.
Ted saw that he must be roused from this immediately.
"Come," he said, placing his hand gently, on the major's shoulder, "we must do something at once."
"What can we do?" asked the major, in a stifled voice.
"In the first place, we must ride to Rodeo with all speed. Do not forget that your sister lies there dead, and that it is your duty to care for her."