“No, I believe not. I merely told him that he would be of invaluable assistance to me in solving this case, and that the mounted police would be deeply indebted to him if he would consent to remain here for a few weeks longer.”
Dick and Sandy both laughed.
“I’ll bet he’s worried stiff,” grinned the latter, “that is, if he’s really the thief. By the way, corporal, how much money did this Dewberry have in his possession at the time of the murder?”
“There’s no way of determining the exact amount,” Rand answered. “Probably several hundred dollars in cash.”
“I wouldn’t think that that would be sufficient bait to tempt MacGregor.”
“There was the poke. Don’t forget that.”
“But you said it was a small one. Perhaps there wasn’t more than a few hundred dollars in nuggets and gold dust.”
“I’m not sure that it was gold.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, it was a very small poke. That much I know. It was almost too small for a prospector’s pouch. As you have suggested, if it contained nuggets, there would scarcely be a fortune there—hardly enough to tempt MacGregor. MacGregor would never have taken the chance he did for the small amount involved. He was naturally a coward, a sneaking human rat, and only a big stake could have induced him to gather sufficient courage to make the effort. After reasoning it all out, I have come to the conclusion that MacGregor must have known what that poke contained: Something infinitely more valuable than gold.”