“What is this treasure?” Wyatt asked, then turned his head as someone came to the doorway. “You—Mr. Meade. Step right in. You don’t need to hesitate. This isn’t a private conference.” As soon as the free-trader had taken a seat beside him, Wyatt repeated his question:
“What is this treasure?”
“We don’t know,” replied Rand. “However, it is an established fact that on the night he was murdered Dewberry had a roll of bills in his pocket and a small poke, suspended from a cord tied around his neck.”
Rand paused, reached in his pocket and brought to light a diminutive moosehide pouch or leather sack, which he passed over to his fellow policeman.
“There it is. That’s the poke. You see how small it is. Nevertheless, at one time it contained something of great value. MacGregor risked his life to get it. Frischette or Creel—as I now have reason to believe—surprised MacGregor in the very act of committing his crime, and took it forcibly from him. Since that night the poke has had an interesting history. Creel kept it in his cabin, but one night he was visited by Emery and Burnnel, who secured possession of it. A few minutes later Dick, Toma and Sandy took it away from them. But in the end Frischette got it and escaped. The next day his body was found by Burnnel and Emery, who reported the news to me.”
“They murdered him.”
“No, it was suicide. I’m almost sure of that. You see, I found a note in the inner pocket of Frischette’s coat. This note was in Frischette’s hand-writing and mentions that he is about to take his own life.”
“Burnnel and Emery might have forced him to write that note. It might be a case of murder after all.”
“I’ve considered that too, Wyatt, but—well, to be frank, I have a theory. My theory is that although this is the poke originally carried by Dewberry, its contents were tampered with and a substitution made by Creel at his cabin before Burnnel and Emery came. To make my theory more clear to you, I’d like to say that I believe that this poke had been filled with something of no value whatsoever. A clever deception on Creel’s part. Not only did it fool Emery and Burnnel, but it fooled Frischette himself. When Frischette opened the poke, you can imagine his rage and disappointment. The treasure was not there. He was a coward at heart and dared not return. Hopeless and despondent, he shot himself.”
Corporal Rand paused to light his pipe.