“Bennett owns a heap of other people’s property. He began life by ruining Brown and Almandares—take thy bill and write down fifty—deliberately smashed ’em so he could get the wreckage. As he began, he kept on—a wrecker. He has no heart, lungs, lights or liver. I knew Almandares; and the good Lord never made a better man than that old Mexican.
“Let me at once show you the impassable gulf between Bennett and a common cheat like Beck, or like Scanlon—blacklegs, card sharps, flimflammers. With the Beck kind, you lose only what they win. The Bennett kind gladly makes you lose ten dollars so he can get one. To end with, Beck and Scanlon showed a tenderness toward you not wholly explained by your many charms of face and form. It was magnificent, but it was not poker. And there’s where I first got the hunch.
“Having stolen the big bundle, they, or either of them, felt a certain delicacy about cheating you for your small change; so what they won from you they won fair. But banker Bennett, with his share put up in moth balls, he’s so scared you might find out and pry it away from him that he wants to hire you killed!”
Ducky Drake made an impassioned remark. It was a household word.
“What makes it a good deal worse,” added Jones with exceeding bitterness, “is that he picked on me to let the contracts to.”
“Well, but——”
“But, nothing! That is one word I can’t bear. He offered to cancel the mortgage on my stuff if I’d expurgate you. That means nearly two thousand perfectly good bucks. Why? Would Bennett do that from civic pride? Nary! He’s got a big bunch of your money—that’s why. Is there any other possible reason?”
“Mere as I am,” said Ducky, “I can see that. There is not. But how does all this involve the others? And what makes you hook up my uncle with the kitty industry?”
“When a man loves money and not work; when a man has run through three fortunes, two of ’em his own; when he turns up with a taxable income made in Saragossa County—how did he make it? How can he make it? Openly, in mines, sheep, cattle, storekeeping, liquor or law. But, except for one cattle ranch, misses’ size, your uncle had no business relations—openly.
“What kind of business is done secretly? Business that is very profitable and not well thought of; counterfeiting—smuggling—gambling. This wasn’t smuggling—too far from the border. Nor counterfeiting—else he might have printed off enough to let him live in New York. Also, it couldn’t possibly be counterfeiting, because it was gambling.