The Greatest Works of Earl Derr Biggers (Illustrated Edition). Earl Derr Biggers

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ of Contents

      A new day dawned, and over the stunted, bizarre shapes of that land of drought the sun resumed its merciless vigil. Bob Eden was early abroad; it was getting to be a habit with him. Before breakfast was served he had a full hour for reflection, and it could not be denied that he had much upon which to reflect. One by one he recalled the queer things that had happened since he came to the ranch. Foremost in his thoughts was the problem of Evelyn Madden. Where was that haughty lady now? No morning mists on the landscape here, but in his mind a constantly increasing fog. If only something definite would occur, something they could understand.

      After breakfast he rose from the table and lighted a cigarette. He knew that Madden was eagerly waiting for him to speak.

      "Mr. Madden," he said, "I find that I must go to Barstow this morning on rather important business. It's an imposition, I know. But if Ah Kim could drive me to town in time for the ten-fifteen train—"

      Thorn's green eyes popped with sudden interest. Madden looked at the boy with ill-concealed approval.

      "Why, that's all right," he replied. "I'll be glad to arrange it for you. Ah Kim—you drive Mr. Eden in town in half an hour. Savvy?"

      "All time moah job," complained Ah Kim. "Gettum up sunlise woik woik till sun him drop. You want 'um taxi driver why you no say so?"

      "What's that?" cried Madden.

      Ah Kim shrugged. "Allight, boss. I dlive 'um."

      When, later on, Eden sat in the car beside the Chinese and the ranch was well behind them, Chan regarded him questioningly.

      "Now you produce big mystery," he said. "Barstow on business has somewhat unexpected sound to me."

      Eden laughed. "Orders from the big chief," he replied. "I'm to go down there and meet Al Draycott—and the pearls."

      For a moment Chan's free hand rested on his waist and the "undigestible" burden that still lay there.

      "Madden changes fickle mind again?" he inquired.

      "That's just what he's done." Eden related the purport of the millionaire's call on him the night before.

      "What you know concerning that!" exclaimed Chan wonderingly.

      "Well, I know this much," Eden answered. "It gives us one more day for the good old hoo malimali. Outside of that, it's just another problem for us to puzzle over. By the way, I didn't tell you why Doctor Whitcomb came to see us last night."

      "No necessity," Chan replied. "I am loafing idle inside door close by and hear it all."

      "Oh, you were? Then you know it may have been Shaky Phil, and not Thorn, who killed Louie?"

      "Shaky Phil—or maybe stranger in car who drive up and call him into road. Must admit that stranger interests me very deep. Who was he? Was it maybe him who carried news of Louie's approach out on to dreary desert?"

      "Well, if you're starting to ask me questions," replied Eden, "then the big mystery is over and we may as well wash up and go home. For I haven't got an answer in me." Eldorado lay before them, its roofs gleaming under the morning sun. "By the way, let's drop in and see Holley. The train isn't due yet—I suppose I'd better take it, somebody might be watching. In the interval, Holley may have news."

      The editor was busy at his desk. "Hello, you're up and around pretty early this morning," he said. He pushed aside his typewriter. "Just dashing off poor old Louie's obit. What's new out at Mystery Ranch?"

      Bob Eden told him of Doctor Whitcomb's call, also of Madden's latest switch regarding the pearls, and his own imminent wild goose chase to Barstow.

      Holley smiled. "Cheer up—a little travel will broaden you," he remarked. "What did you think of Miss Evelyn? But then, I believe you had met her before."

      "Think of Miss Evelyn? What do you mean?" asked Eden, surprised.

      "Why, she came last night, didn't she?"

      "Not so anybody could notice it. No sign of her at the ranch."

      Holley rose and walked up and down for a moment. "That's odd. That's very odd. She certainly arrived on the six-forty train."

      "You're sure of that?" Eden asked.

      "Of course I am. I saw her." Holley sat down again. "I wasn't very much occupied last night—it was one of my free nights—I have three hundred and sixty-five of them every year. So I strolled over to the station and met the six-forty. Thorn was there, too. A tall handsome girl got off the train, and I heard Thorn address her as Miss Evelyn. 'How's dad?' she asked. 'Get in,' said Thorn, 'and I'll tell you about him. He wasn't able to come to meet you himself.' The girl entered the car, and they drove away. Naturally, I thought she was brightening your life long before this."

      Eden shook his head. "Funny business," he commented. "Thorn got back to the ranch a little after ten, and when he came he was alone. Charlie here discovered, with his usual acumen, that the car had traveled some thirty-nine miles."

      "Also clinging to accelerator, as though scraped off from shoe of Thorn, small fragment of red clay," added Chan. "You are accustomed round here, Mr. Holley. Maybe you can mention home of red clay."

      "Not offhand," replied Holley. "There are several places—But say, this thing gets deeper and deeper. Oh—I was forgetting—there's a letter here for you, Eden."

      He handed over a neat missive addressed in an old-fashioned hand. Eden inspected it with interest. It was from Madame Jordan, a rather touching appeal not to let the deal for the pearls fall through. He went back and began to read it aloud. Mrs. Jordan could not understand. Madden was there, he had bought the pearls—why the delay? The loss of that money would be serious for her.

      When he had finished, Eden looked accusingly at Chan, then tore the letter to bits and threw them into a wastepaper basket. "I'm about through," he said. "That woman is one of the dearest old souls that ever lived, and it strikes me we're treating her shamefully. After all, what's happening out at Madden's ranch is none of our business. Our duty to Madame Jordan—"

      "Pardon me," broke in Chan, "but coming to that, I have sense of duty most acute myself. Loyalty blooms in my heart forever—"

      "Well, and what do you think we ought to do?" demanded Eden.

      "Watch and wait."

      "But good lord—we've done that. I was thinking about it this morning. One inexplicable event after another, and never anything definite, anything we can get our teeth into. Such a state of affairs may go on forever. I tell you, I'm fed up."

      "Patience," said Chan, "are a very lovely virtue. Through long centuries Chinese cultivate patience like kind gardener tending flowers. White men leap about similar to bug in bottle. Which are better method, I inquire?"

      "But listen, Charlie. All this stuff we've discovered out at the ranch—that's for the police."

      "For stupid Captain Bliss, maybe. He with the feet of large extensiveness."

      "I can't help the size of his feet. What's that got to do with it? No, sir—I can't see why we don't give Madden the pearls, get his receipt, and then send for the sheriff and tell him the whole story. After that, he can worry СКАЧАТЬ