"Never mind about that just now. Siwash Charley isn't around here, nor are any other of Murgatroyd's friends. Tell me how you came to have a talk with Mrs. Traquair?"
"Well, as I was sayin', I got a claim over t'other side o' Sykestown. It jines corners with a homestead Harry Traquair took up—the same Harry Traquair what mortgaged his quarter section fer enough ter go ter Jimtown an' build a flyin' machine. Well, I haven't put down a well on my claim yet, so I gits my drinkin' water from Traquair's claim, that bein' the nighest. There ain't been any one livin' in Traquair's shack fer a year, an' I was kinder surprised, t'other day, when I seen a man movin' around the place. I talked with the feller while I was gittin' a bucket o' water, an' he says he's come there ter take keer o' the crops. He was a tough-lookin' chap, an' I didn't like his looks any too well, but if Mrs. Traquair had sent him, and he suited her, why, he ort ter suit me, too.
"While I was talkin' with the man, me by the pump an' facin' the side of the house, an' him standin' with his back to the wall, a piece of paper was pushed out from between the boards an' dropped down on the ground.
"At first I was goin' ter tell the man about it, an' then I allowed it was purty queer—that shack leakin' a piece o' paper through the side that way, an' I held in about it. You know how these claim shacks is built—some of 'em jest throwed tergether, with cracks between the boards big enough ter heave a dog out of.
"Bymby the feller I was talkin' to excused himself an' went inter the house. The road I took carried me along the wall, an' as I went by I stooped down an' picked up the paper. There was writin' on it, an' I wah plumb surprised when I read that writin'. Here, I'll let ye see it fer yerself."
Hackberry dug up a three-cornered scrap of brown paper from the depths of his pocket, shook some loose tobacco out of it, and handed it to Matt.
Matt managed to make the following out of the hastily written scrawl:
"I have been waiting, Mr. Hackberry, and trying to get word to you. If you see this, and pick it up, it will inform you that I was lured to this place from Jamestown, that I am being kept a prisoner here, and that I must talk with you as soon as possible, or the homestead will be taken away from me. Come quietly to the side of the house, where you picked up this paper, at night. I can whisper to you what I want, and the man who is keeping me a prisoner will never know. You used to be a friend of poor Harry's, so I hope you will help me.
"Mrs. Traquair."
It would have been hard to describe Matt's feelings as he read this penciled scrawl. It had been a week since he had received a letter from Mrs. Traquair, and the cunning Murgatroyd might have carried out many underhand plans in a week!
"Did you go to the house that night, Mr. Hackberry?" asked Matt.