"Strange thing," the officer had remarked musingly to Slavin, just prior to his departure, "I seem to know that man Gully's face, but somehow I can't place him. He introduced himself to me on the train coming up. Of course I'm familiar with his name, as the J.P. here, but I can't recall ever meeting him before."
Sometime later, Slavin and Yorke, who had just returned from the gruesome autopsy and were busily making arrangements for the afternoon's inquest, heard a loud, cackling commotion out in the main street. They immediately stepped outside the hotel to see what was the matter.
Advancing towards them, and puffing with exertion and importance, they beheld Nick Lee, haling along at arm's length an unkempt individual whom they judged to be the hobo who had disturbed his peace of mind. A small retinue of dirty urchins, jeering loafers, and barking dogs brought up the rear. The village "Dogberry" drew nigh with his victim and halted, as empurpled as probably the elder Weller was, after ducking Mr. Stiggins in the horse-trough.
"Sarjint!" he panted triumphantly "I did clim up that ther ladder! I did git thru' th' trap-door! . . . an'—I did ketch that feller!" Suddenly his jaw dropped, and he wilted like a pricked bladder. "Why! what's up?" he queried with a crestfallen air, as he beheld Slavin's angry, worried countenance.
"Damnation!" muttered the latter softly and savagely to Yorke. "This means another thrip tu Calgary—wid this 'bo'—an' me not able tu shpare ye just now. Fwhat wid all this other bizness I'd forgotten all 'bout him. An' we'd vagged him sooner Ridmond might have taken th' tu av thim down tugither. Da——." The oath died on his lips and he remained staring at the hobo as a sudden thought struck him. His gaze flickered to Yorke's face, and his subordinate nodded comprehensively.
Slavin beckoned to Lee. "Take um inside the hotel parlour, Nick," he ordered, "fwhere we hild coort this mornin.' Yorkey, yu' go an' hunt up Mr. Gully. I don't think he's pulled out yet, has he, Nick?" He spoke now with a certain grim eagerness.
The livery-man made a gesture in the negative, and Yorke departed upon his quest. Slavin ushered Lee and the hobo into the room. To the sergeant's surprise he beheld the justice sitting at the table writing. He concluded that that gentleman must have just stepped in from the rear entrance of the hotel, or the bar, during his own and Yorke's temporary absence.
At the entrance of the trio Gully raised his head and, with the pen poised in his fingers, sat perfectly motionless, staring at them strangely out of his shadowy eyes. His face seemed transformed into a blank, expressionless mask. The sergeant leaned over the table and spoke to him in a rapid aside.
"Ah!" murmured Mr. Gully, and he remained for a space in deep thought.
"Sergeant," he began presently, "I'll have to be pulling out soon.
Before we start in with this man . . . will you kindly step down to
Doctor Cox's with these papers and ask him to sign them?"
It seemed an ordinary request. Slavin complied.