McGowan, following the introductions of his assistants, went into the matter of the cyanid bullion at length. The bar was produced in evidence.
“Lastly,” finished McGowan, “your pard’s actions virtually admitted his guilt.”
“How so?” asked the scout.
“Why, he refused to let us examine the inside of his saddle-bags, and tried to fight us off.”
“So far from proving his guilt,” declared the scout, “it goes to show his innocence. Knowing he had done nothing unlawful he denied your right to question his integrity. Any man of spirit would have fought against a dishonoring search of his person or his saddle-bags.”
“How did the gold get in there, then?”
“Somebody put it in.”
“And that somebody,” spoke up Bernritter, with a swagger, “was the Dutchman.”
“Did you see my pard put the bar into his saddle-bag, Bernritter?” demanded the scout, his eyes narrowing to mere slits as he measured the superintendent.
“Why, no.”