Meanwhile, Lex had likewise been giving considerable thought to the mysterious disappearance of his company’s money. He also was beginning to recognize the necessity of carefully questioning Lemuel, as well as his daughter, on the entire Billy Gee episode. While he did not believe they were accomplices of the bandit in any sense of the word, or even knew him for that matter, he felt convinced that it was quite possible that their stories would shed some light on Billy’s movements which would facilitate the search Coates and Tyler were making, resulting probably in immediately locating the whereabouts of the outlaw’s cache, for, though he would not admit it to himself, he saw where their quest was rapidly reaching an end, that it had seemingly been for naught.
Ever since the departure of Dot and her father, Lex had made it his business to ascertain the standing of the Huntingtons, in order to fully satisfy his mind as to the type of persons they were. He had done this quietly, so as not to arouse suspicion, and had found that without exception the community regarded Lemuel as a sterling, though simple, character, and held Dot in no less high esteem than did Mrs. Liggs. About the only weakness that the father had, was an inordinate worship of education and educated people, which found reflection in a consuming passion to provide his daughter with those advantages that would make her a woman of superior culture and refinement, so the camp said. And this, to Lex’s mind, was an unerring sign of probity in any man, a native genteelness that could not go far wrong.
One morning, two weeks after the Huntingtons had left for San Francisco, Lex motored from the ranch into Geerusalem. He had said nothing to Coates and Tyler about what he now contemplated doing, merely instructing them to await his return. Once in camp, however, he had the constable send a wire to the San Francisco chief of police requesting him to locate if possible the hotel at which Lemuel and Dot were registered. Around six o’clock that afternoon a reply was received, naming the Golden West.
Without loss of time, Lex sprang into his roadster and drove to the railroad, where he caught the night train for the North. After due reflection, he had decided to have a quiet talk with Huntington and his daughter, one in which the detectives would have no part; for somehow he rather resented their thinly veiled insinuations and coarse remarks toward a man against whom they possessed not a vestige of incriminating evidence. In fact, he was certain he could get more from the Huntingtons through a friendly discussion, than might be gained by the intimidating, browbeating methods employed by inquisitors of the Coates and Tyler type.
Besides, manlike, he was just a little bit curious to meet this girl, Dot, of whom he had heard such flattering reports, whose picture he had gazed on so many times during his fortnight at the ranch, who was so close to his dear little old friend, Mrs. Liggs.
But in one particular, his plans miscarried, for it so happened that while he was en route to San Francisco, Lemuel—having sight-seen the metropolis to his entire satisfaction, as well as gratified the desire of his life by settling Dot in Longwell Seminary for her first year—was on his way back to Geerusalem, with a headful of progressive ideas calculated to make him in the next decade, through the early purchase of a herd of stock cattle, the principal cowman of southern California. Their trains passed each other in the night.
The following day when Lemuel reached home, he was confronted by Coates and Tyler and learned to his bewilderment and dismay that he was under arrest for no less a crime than knowingly appropriating to himself twenty thousand dollars belonging to the Mohave & Southwestern Railroad Company. They ordered him into the kitchen and began grilling him—bombarding him with questions, disputing his answers, tripping him up, now and again hurling their accusations at him, cajoling him in one breath, threatening him in the next.
Hour after hour, they kept it up untiringly, mercilessly, and because he could not give a convincing story of how he had known that Billy Gee was hiding in the hayloft—fearing as he did to mention even so much as his daughter’s name in conjunction with the case—they decided to hold him on the John Doe warrant they had procured from the local judge, pending further investigation.
At dark, Coates mounted one of Lemuel’s horses and rode into Geerusalem and communicated by telephone with Sangerly, senior, Western manager of the Mohave & Southwestern in Los Angeles. He gave a brief account of the failure which had attended their search and ended with the declaration that it was the professional opinion of himself and Tyler that Lemuel Huntington was the thief. Stating simply that Lex had gone to San Francisco, Coates informed Mr. Sangerly that they desired to remove their prisoner to the county jail for further questioning and asked for official sanction in the matter.
This being granted, he rushed the usual legal formalities necessary to take a prisoner out of the jurisdiction of the Geerusalem courts and sped away for the ranch in a rented machine, his object being to get Lemuel out of the district before Lex returned; for now there was not the remotest doubt in the mind of those two man-hunters that Dot’s father was the sensational catch of their careers.