“That all, Len?” McLagan spoke in the harsh tone of a man without mercy. “We’re taking no chances with the feller who’s done up a ship’s company. Is he harmless?”
“As a babe.”
Len Stern left the man and moved clear. Then he waited, leaning with his elbow propped on the window framing while McLagan lowered his threatening weapon.
The engineer’s quick eyes took in the details of the dishevelled interior.
“Making a quick getaway, Caspar, eh?” he snapped sharply. “Making a break for the open where the thing lying back of you’s not going to come again.” He shook his head. “You can’t escape that, boy, not as long as you live. And when you’re dead, I guess you’ll get its consequences. Say, a feller can’t commit cold-blooded murder without it leaving a hell of a stain, if it’s only on the brutal mind that designed it. Can you guess why we’re here? Can you guess why Len Stern’s come all along from Perth in Australia? Sure you can. But I tell you, in case you don’t guess right. Len Stern’s got along to make sure you swing by your darn neck for murdering his partner, and goodness knows how many more. You can drop your hands.”
The man lowered his arms and it was noticeable that his fists were tightly clenched. His eyes displayed nothing but cold contemplation as they looked back into McLagan’s face. Those looking on, observing his every movement with the closest scrutiny, were not without a feeling of appreciation for the sheer nerve he was displaying. But they were neither of them deceived. A storm lay behind those cold eyes. It was raging, consuming. And it was expressed in the two fiercely clenched fists.
The man shook his head.
“You’re wrong,” he said calmly, with a shrug. “You’re dead wrong. I’m not worried a thing with any memory of murder. I don’t have to be. I don’t know this feller you call Len Stern. And as for his partner I can’t guess the thing you’re talking. I’m a gold man scratching over the dirt of this creek. And my name’s Liskard—Cy Liskard. You’ve a hold-up on me for, I suppose, the stuff you reckon to get out of me. You’ll get not an ounce. I’m quitting for the reason the show don’t pay. Well?”
It was consummately done. It was too well done. McLagan laughed coldly.
“We’ll cut all that right out,” he said. He dropped back to the door framing and leant his big body against it, but his gun was in his hand ready for instant use. “This isn’t any old game of bluff. It’s just cold business that’s going through as we fixed it. You can keep that junk for the law courts where you’ll stand up to answer for your play. For the moment the things concerning us are toting you right in to Beacon, and handing you over to Alan Goodchurch. Then you’ll be passed on to Fairbanks. I’m not wise if they use an electric chair there or hang a boy like you right out of hand. It don’t signify, anyway. They don’t treat murder easy in Fairbanks, which makes me feel good passing you along in that direction. Your ponies are fixed for your journey. You’ve set things that way, and I’m obliged. We’ll be able to travel the quicker. You can get up off those blankets. You’re going to start right away. I can’t give you even blanket room on the journey. You see, we’re going to make Beacon quick.”