He reached out for the book, and after a moment's search showed Mrs. Andress and her uncle a page of dates and numbers.
"Here, for instance, is a record of our losses from the rustlers, as accurate as our books would show it." He turned other pages. "And here are the notes he took when deciding on the location of that pretended ranch. They say there's a missing link in every criminal's make-up, and this would seem to be Childress'."
The widow looked disturbed. The major gestured for silence, and slouched down in his chair in an attitude of deep meditation. It was a considerable time before he spoke, engaged the while making a mental review of Fitzrapp's account from beginning to end, weighing the importance of each reported incident.
"Tom, what are you going to do about that race?" he demanded suddenly. "With Canada stolen you can't live up to your agreement and Childress can claim forfeit on your thousand."
"Hell's-bells, man! You haven't an idea that Childress will appear in Strathconna for that race, have you? Why, he wouldn't dare."
"I'm not so sure," returned the major meditatively. "What leads me to believe that he will make an appearance and insist on a race is that his certificate of deposit was good. The bank paid it without a murmur, and I deposited the money to my account to await developments."
The face of Ethel Andress still wore a puzzled expression. "Childress certainly manages to turn many a card in his favor," she said, gazing out through the open window over the range to the south, now gleaming like an emerald under the ministration of the setting sun. "I'll be glad when his exact standing is settled."
"I believed from the first that the scoundrel was bluffing about that race," asserted Fitzrapp, relieved that the main subject, his overconfidence in Duncan O'Hara, was sidetracked, at least temporarily. "You'll remember, Ethel, that it first was broached that day over at Gallegher's, doubtless to impress the brat with his extravagant sportsmanship. I'm surprised at old Sam letting the girl run the range with him. If she were my child——"
Whatever the widow remembered about that day at Gallegher's evidently was not pleasant; what she knew about Flame ranging the Fire Weed with the attractive suspect unpleasing. She left the living-room for her own quarters.
"A thousand dollars is some money, young man," objected the major, following the interruption of Mrs. Andress' departure. "I can see no possible object in his making so expensive a bluff."