“Why not? Tell her right off the bat that the thing is a lie and a forgery and that you want to explain about how it was made. She might fall for that and carry the document to you. She’s always had a good opinion of you, hasn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“Then why should she change at a mere story.”
“You’re right,” Sorenson exclaimed with sudden energy. “The matter described happened so long ago that she won’t probably attach as much importance to it as we’ve imagined she would. I’ll ask her to bring it to me to see––and that will be all that’s necessary, once it’s in my fingers.”
“And what about him?” Burkhardt asked, striking the floor with his heel.
“Just leave him there for the present. To-morrow we’ll have another talk with him,” the cattleman stated. “Better offer him a couple of thousand to go to another state; he’ll grab at the chance, I fancy. Money heals most wounds. But, Vorse, keep your cellar locked and the bartender away from it. We can start Martinez away sometime to-morrow.”
“Don’t know about that. To-morrow night will be our busy night,” the ex-sheriff said.
“We might let Gordon handle him,” Vorse suggested.
“I thought perhaps you intended to keep the Judge in ignorance of this Martinez matter. He seems to be getting sort of feeble.”