And Tresler at once proceeded with his story of the midnight visit of the masked rider and his companion. He told his story in as few words as possible, being careful to omit nothing, and laying a slight stress on his own rambling in the neighborhood of the house. He was very careful to confine himself to the matter of the apparition, avoiding all allusion to the further happenings of the night. When he had finished, which he did without any interruption from the other, Jake spoke with quiet appreciation.
“An’ you’ve brought the yarn to me. For any partic’lar reason?”
Tresler raised his eyebrows. “Certainly,” he replied. “You are foreman of the ranch. Mr. Marbolt’s interests are yours.”
“That being so, I’d like to know what you were doing around the house at that hour of the night?” was Jake’s prompt retort.
Tresler had looked for this. He knew perfectly well that Jake did not expect his question to be answered. Didn’t particularly want it answered. It was simply to serve a purpose. He was trying to draw him.
“That is my affair, Jake. For the moment, at least, let us set personalities on one side. No doubt we have accounts to settle. I may as well say at once we are in each other’s debt. But this matter I am speaking of is of personal interest to everybody around the district.”
All the time he was speaking, Tresler was watching for the smallest change in Jake’s manner. And as he went on his appreciation of the fellow’s capability rose. He realized that Jake was, after all, something more than a mass of beef and muscle. As no comment was forthcoming he went on rapidly.
“Now, last night’s apparition was not altogether new to me. I saw the same thing the first night I arrived on the ranch, but, being ‘green’ at the time, it lost its significance. Now, it is different. It needs explaining. So I have come to you. But I have not come to you without having considered the matter as fully as it is possible for one in my position to do. Mark me carefully. I have weighed all the details of Red Mask’s raids; considered them from all points. Time and place, distance, the apparitions around the ranch, for those ghostly visitors have, at times, been seen in the neighborhood by others. And all these things so tally that they have produced a conviction in my mind that there is a prime mover in the business to be found on this ranch.”
“An’ the prime mover?” Jake’s interest had in no way relaxed. He seemed to be eager to hear everything Tresler could tell him. The latter shrugged.
“Who is there on this ranch that cannot at all times be accounted for? Only one man. Anton—Black Anton.”