Ted Strong in Montana Part 32

"This is the cord that is used by the j.a.panese and East Indian secret societies known as the Thugs or Thuggees."

"How do you know?"

"I have seen cords like this before in the Orient, where they were used by j.a.panese murderers."

The cord pa.s.sed from hand to hand as the major and the boys examined it with curiosity and some degree of horror, while Stella positively refused to handle it, or even look at it.

"Tell me more about Miss Mowbray's servants," said Ted, again taking up his line of interrogation. "What were the names of the two j.a.panese?"

"The man was called Ban Joy, but generally was known as Joy."

"Was he pretty well known in the town?"

"No, he was uncommunicative, and spoke very little English. The only persons who had much to do with him were the storekeepers of whom he bought supplies for the house."

"And the woman?"

"Her name was Itsu San, I believe. I only saw her once, and that was in the yard back of the house. She appeared young, and was very pretty for a j.a.p, I guess. She is the first j.a.p woman I ever saw."

"What were her duties?"

"She was Miss Mowbray's maid, while Joy was the cook."

"And you say they are gone?"

"Yes. I saw Joy about eight o'clock, but when I searched the house after the discovery of the body they were not there, and I could find nothing that belonged to them."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to hit Farnsworth's trail, and I won't leave it till I run him down and send him to the gallows."

"I don't think you will."

"I won't, eh? Why shouldn't I?"

"Because Farnsworth did not murder Miss Mowbray."

"Then who did?"

"I don't know; probably the j.a.panese, but I'm not too sure of that. I believe you will pick up a surprise at the end of the string you are following. At any rate, me for Farnsworth, and I give you fair warning that I'm going to help him all I can until I am persuaded of his guilt."

"That's a fine way for a deputy United States marshal to talk."

"A better way than you are talking, for it is as much our duty to protect men from injustice as it is to bring them to justice."

"That's enough of you for me then. I'll say good night. Come on, boys."

The four deputy United States marshals marched in single file from the house, mounted their horses, and rode away into the west just as the sun poked its head above the eastern horizon.

CHAPTER XVI.

A LETTER FROM THE DEAD.

Ted was brooding over the appearance of Farnsworth, and the startling events which followed, and particularly the crime at Rodeo, of which the young fellow had fallen under suspicion.

Ted believed that Farnsworth was innocent of the crime.

But his flight from the town, and the question he had put to Ted when they met in the road, as to whether Ted had heard the news from Rodeo, were enough to convict him in the mind of any person p.r.o.ne to suspicion.

But Ted looked at matters of this sort differently than most people. In the first place, his experience had taught him that actions which seemed most suspicious often proved most innocent.

That Farnsworth knew of the murder of Helen Mowbray before he quitted Rodeo his question to Ted left no doubt, and the shadow of suspicion under which he had lived was reason enough for him to leave the town before its discovery. He knew the dangerous temper of the people, and that it would take very little to arouse them against him, and precipitate them into a lynching, with himself as the central figure.

Ted had heard that Fancy Farnsworth was the worst man in Arizona, and that he had the most ungovernable temper, the quickest eye, and swiftest "draw" of a gun in the Territory.

He was a gambler against whom n.o.body seemed to be able to cope, for he invariably won. It had been said that he was not a straight gambler, but those who said it did so only once, as they were incapable of saying it twice, for by that time they had been shot full of holes by the card sharper.

Why it was that Farnsworth always escaped punishment at the hands of the authorities no one knew, except that they lacked the nerve to force prosecution against him, and that he invariably had a good excuse for killing a man; at least, one that made good in that rough country, where every man was of a size because all carried revolvers.

But even while Ted believed that Farnsworth was innocent of the murder of Miss Mowbray, he felt that some day he and the das.h.i.+ng young fellow would meet on the battlefield as enemies.

But it was the strange resemblance between him and Major Caruthers that affected Ted more than anything else, and he often wondered that the major had not noticed it himself.

Major Caruthers found Ted on the veranda turning these things over in his mind after breakfast. Coming to his side, the old gentleman threw his arm around Ted's shoulder and said:

"Ted, I'm rather worried about that young chap d.i.c.kson, or Farnsworth, whichever he is. I was greatly attracted to him, and intended to invite him to stay with us several days, when those deputy marshals entered and accused him of a crime that horrifies me. Somehow, I feel that he is guilty, although I want to believe in his innocence, as you so bravely advocated when we all were too cowardly to do so. But if he was innocent, why did he not stay and face his accusers, and go back to Rodeo with the marshals and prove himself innocent?"

"He never would have got as far as Rodeo," said Ted quietly.

"Why not? He was under arrest and in the guard and custody of four deputy marshals, officers of the United States."

"They would have prevailed no more than if they had been dummies, which I strongly suspect they were."

"Um, how is that?"

"They were sent out from Rodeo as marshals, but the mob that would have met Farnsworth at the outskirts of the town, to hang him, was the real boss. Those marshals would no more dare defy that mob than they would fly. In the first place, they were not of the real stuff, as was proved by their conduct when they entered your house and saw Farnsworth in the middle of the floor and dared not go to him."

"Well, I'm glad he got away, but I am sorry he had to steal your pony to do it."

"That's all right about the pony. I'm betting I'll get it back one of these days. And, besides, there was nothing else for him to do."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the major. "That was the neatest thing I ever saw, the way he got into that saddle and deliberately put that pony at the window."

"It sure was nervy," said Ted, with a reminiscent smile.