“That was Neuburg covering himself up,” said Clement. “Nobody saw or heard him leave, nobody can connect him with—with anything that might happen up at Gunning’s shack in the wilds. I suppose that’s all there is so far.”
“That’s all,” agreed Gatineau. “We know their movements to a dotted ‘i,’ an’ we know Miss Reys is coming on here. I suppose we had best just wait around until she comes?”
“Yes,” said Clement, “there seems nothing else to do at the moment. We must wait for a wire from The Chief about that money, anyhow. But I confess I don’t like waiting. Certainly Miss Reys appears to be coming here, but with these brutes, with that demoniac intelligence of Neuburg’s working against us, I am fearful. Who can say what sudden turn events might take, and—and what terrible crime might be committed without our being able to interpose?”
VII
Clement Seadon was manifestly uneasy. Not barring the path which led from Heloise to the archscoundrel at Sicamous made him feel safe. Not even the exquisite beauty of this delightful place could tranquilize him. He felt that some slip, some chance warning to Neuburg, might bring a calamity. Neuburg, that monster, with his cold, quiet, and uncannily placid intelligence, would act like a flash. He was, Clement felt, being so desperately driven that he would not hesitate to act desperately to attain his ends.
There was no doubting the fiend’s terrible capacity. Clement was sure that, in some way, Neuburg had already arranged to get control of Heloise’s money—or some of her money—through this bank, and his confederate in the bank, at Revelstoke. He had already his evil fingers on that loot. All that he needed was to secure Heloise to make his control of her money complete. And, at a crisis, he would stop at nothing to secure Heloise—that meant her silence—in order to get that money.
Her silence. Clement shuddered. He saw, again, the mental picture of how Neuburg, as Nachbar, had secured the silence of Roberts of Oregon. The dead cannot give evidence.
Clement tried to quiet his nerves by going for a long tramp through the deep spruce woods that clung to the sides of the austere mountains, but half-way through it he became panicky and hurried back to the hotel in case he might miss some crucial message.
There was no message. He had to wait hours before anything came. Then it came from Sicamous. That message, however, was significant enough for those who could get an inkling of the ominous riddle behind it.