Jim did not care to press the point. He had no wish to wound the sheriff's sensibilities, at least while further information might be extracted from the man. But he regarded this news concerning the part Dan McGrew had played in the affair as of vital importance. While the sheriff maundered on, he rapidly reviewed the details of the case, so far as he knew them.
The murderer, according to Jack's account, must have seen the approach of the bridal pair. The fact was, indeed, proven by his hasty flight from the scene of the crime. Thereafter, he might have watched, and probably had watched, the arrival of the sled, and he doubtless had been aware that the newcomers camped on the creek for the night. Already, in previous study of the questions involved, Jim had arrived at these conclusions, which established a plausible explanation for the presence of the knife-handle in Jack's pack. Certainly, it could have been no difficult feat for the assassin to secrete this evidence during the night encampment. As certainly, there could have been no other opportunity. Nor could there be any doubt as to the motive for the action. It had been for the purpose of fixing guilt upon the innocent, that the guilty might go free.
Now, in addition to these conclusions already established, there appeared another and salient fact.
The person who first suggested the searching of the pack wherein the knife-handle lay concealed had been Dan McGrew. The inference was undeniable. It was made stronger still by the correlated fact that Dan McGrew had arrived at Kalmak only shortly before the coming of the alleged murderer. By further questioning, Jim drew from the loquacious sheriff additional data. Dangerous Dan had arrived on foot. He had talked of having been in the stampede; but he had given no precise account of his movements, nor had he explained the reason for his coming to Kalmak, over which the sheriff had puzzled. The day following his arrival, he had set out for Malamute with a hired outfit.
A rapid survey of all these circumstances brought Jim Maxwell to the conviction that Dangerous Dan McGrew had added murder to his other crimes. The evidence was by no means conclusive, but it was sufficient to any one reasoning from the facts. Jim, sure of Jack's innocence, regarded the guilt of Dan McGrew as actually established. There remained the necessity of final proof, which would brand the murderer as such before the world and clear the innocent from unjust suspicion.
It was reasonable to suppose that the slayer of Sam Ward had taken to himself, in payment for his crime, anything of value on the dead man's body. Thus there was a possibility, even a probability, that Dangerous Dan McGrew now carried with him some tangible evidence that would serve to convict him. This evidence must be secured. In no other way could the innocence of Jack Reeves be proclaimed to the world. And Dangerous Dan had gone to Malamute. Jim smiled slowly, staring fixedly, as if his gaze reached out across the miles. The sheriff, though hardly a coward, shrank a little from some strange quality in that look.
Jim Maxwell, in truth, was wondering as to his exact purpose in going to Malamute. Was it to save Jack Reeves, or was it to kill Dangerous Dan McGrew? Both, perhaps.
He put a last question to the sheriff, who was puzzled by it—not the less so by reason of a certain hesitation in the questioner's voice as he spoke.
"There wasn't any—any woman with this—Dan McGrew?"
"Nope! He's been here three or four times for a game with the boys. He's square, Dan is. An' I hain't never seen him look at nary one of the gals."