“That’s good. Show ’em what you have, daughter.”
Mary drew a knotted handkerchief from her bosom and undid the knots. Appeared the doubled paper she had found. This she passed to Janet.
“Why,––why, this is the document I had!” the latter exclaimed, joyfully. “Where did you find it?”
“Up by the smashed automobile, when father and I were at the cabin.” She exchanged a guarded look with her father. “There are names in it that made me think it might be valuable. So when father came back from Bowenville I showed it to him. But neither of us could read it. We thought we’d better bring it to you to read.”
“It is valuable, very valuable. I had it when I was seized by Ed Sorenson and he took it away from me. Evidently, then, it fell from his pocket at the time of the accident. Yes, indeed, it’s important. It means everything to certain parties. I’ll read it, but you understand what it tells is private at present.”
“We understand––and I think I know what it’s going to say,” Johnson remarked, grimly.
Thereupon while the others listened Janet read a translation of the long document. To her and her father the facts were not new, for Weir had already related such as he knew of the happenings in Vorse’s saloon on that eventful day thirty years previous. Nor for that matter were they strange to Johnson and his daughter, though of course neither Janet nor her father were aware of the rancher’s more intimate knowledge of the subject.
“A pretty good story as far as it goes, but like all lawyers’ papers long-winded,” Johnson stated, critically.
“What do you mean, far as it goes?” Janet asked, 235 curiously. “Did you know this old Mexican? Did you ever hear him tell about the thing?”