William MacDonald: The Battle At Three-Cross

Lance crossed the room, hand outstretched. “I reckon I owe you a heap of apologies, Professor.”

“Not at all.” Jones smiled. “Natural mistake, what?”

Katherine added, “He really was a professor of botany once too. But the search for cacti was secondary. It was a desire for news regarding Dad’s death that really brought us down here.”

“I can help out there,” Lance said. “Fletcher killed your father, Katherine. Herrick confessed that much——”

“That’s one of the things I had to tell,” Lockwood broke in. “You’ll be telling me next that you know where Matt Foster is and——”

“At least I know who he is,” Lance interrupted.

“Wait a minute, Ethan.” He turned to the others. “I was sent on the track of a man named Matt Foster. Foster had robbed a Trea sury Department messenger of thirty thousand dollars. A record of the numbers on the bills had been kept, and they were traced to Pozo Verde. Last night I recognized Matt Foster.”

Lance took from his pocket a photograph. “Here’s a picture of Matt Foster and his gang—the gang he had at the time they held up the Trea sury Department messenger. Lanky—Oscar, take a look at this photo. This one at the back of the group is Matt Foster—the one with the heavy growth of black whis kers.”

Oscar said, “You showed that picture to Ethan and me once.”

Lanky said slowly, “There’s something looks familiar about that Foster hombre, but I can’t just place him.”

“I’ll help you,” Lance said. “Just pretend that derby hat is a helmet and those black whis kers are black feathers. Remember, last night in the Temple of the Plumed Serpent?”

“Fletcher, by Gawd!” Lanky exclaimed.

Oscar said, “Sure it’s Fletcher. Well, I’ll be danged!”

Lance nodded. “Malcolm Fletcher is Matt Foster. I recognized him last night. Remember, I told you to remember that face?”

“By cripes,” Lockwood said disappointedly, “that’s another of the things I came down here to tell you, Lance. Don’t tell me you already know that we found Elmer Manley——”

“Dead or alive?” Lance asked quickly.

“Alive—plenty alive.”

“Tell it,” Lance said. “You’ve been interrupted enough, Ethan. Where did you find him?”

Ethan laughed. “You can credit Johnny Quinn and his hemoglobinuria scare with the discovery of Elmer. Old Johnny saw Banker Gill Addison taking some stomach pills one day and he got to wondering if Gill had hemoglobinuria. The more he thought about it the more he became convinced he should tell Addison to drink bourbon for the disease. So he went to Addison’s house. Addison wasn’t home. The house was dark. But Johnny Quinn thought he heard someone inside making strangling noises. Johnny came running to me, all in a dither, saying that Gill Addison was dying of hemoglobinuria and that I’d better enter the house and call a doctor. To cut a long story short, I went to the Addison home—he lives alone, you know—broke down the door after I’d heard those same strangling noises and discovered Elmer Manley, roped and gagged. Elmer had been trying to call for help through his gag. About the time I untied Elmer and got him on his feet, Gill Addison came home. I put him under arrest pronto.”

Lanky growled, “Don’t tell me Banker Addison was mixed up with Fletcher?”

“He was mixed up plenty.” Lockwood nodded. “Once I got him in a cell and worked on him a mite he broke down. Addison never did have much nerve, so it wa’n’t hard to make him talk. It seems that Matt Foster—or call him Fletcher—had known Addison some years back, just about the time Addison got out of prison after serving a forgery sentence. Fletcher had that stolen money, but the bills’ numbers having been recorded, they were risky to get rid of. Addison took them over at a discount and from time to time slipped them in with the bills that Manley passed through his cashier’s cage. Addison got rid of quite a few of the bills himself when he handled the cage while Manley was out to dinner.”

“Being a banker,” Lance put in, “Addison could pass such stolen money without being suspected, of course.”

“It was a cinch,” Lockwood said. “Addison, like other bankers throughout the country, had a list of the numbered bills. By accident Elmer Manley had a short look at that list and remembered some of the numbers. Thus he recognized some of the bills Addison had slipped into his cash drawer. He didn’t know how they’d come there. When he reported the matter to Addison, Addison insisted he was mistaken in the numbers. However, he refused to let Elmer see the list of missing bills. In short, he told Elmer to stick to his cashier’s cage and forget about stolen money. That aroused Elmer’s suspicions.”

Lockwood paused to assemble his facts, then continued, “Meanwhile, Jared Gregory had been looking for a partner to take a half-share in his ranch and buy some blooded stock to raise the quality of his cows. He asked Addison to suggest someplace where he could find a partner. It looked like a good proposition. Fletcher was looking for an investment. He bought a half-interest in the ranch. A few days later Jared Gregory discovered on the property an ancient Aztec temple. Well, gold and jewels are usually found in such places. Fletcher and Addison decided they wanted the temple all to themselves, so it was planned for Fletcher to kill Jared Gregory and——” Lockwood broke off in some embarrassment. “Gosh, Miss Gregory, I hate to be reminding you——”

“Go on,” Katherine urged. Her eyes were a trifle moist. “After all, we’ve got to know the facts so we can—can——”

Her voice broke. Lance moved closer and took one of her hands in both his own. Lockwood went on, a trifle hurriedly, “Anyway, they were mistaken about the gold and jewels. They never did find any trea sure beyond a few silver trinkets that weren’t worth much. Meanwhile, an Indian—half Yaquente, half Apache—had witnessed the killing of Jared Gregory. This Indian decided to blackmail Fletcher. Fletcher was in a tight. He asked Addison’s advice. Addison advised him to hire Chiricahua Herrick to kill the Indian. Instead, Herrick made friends with the hombre who had certain ideas about cooking up a revolution in Mexico.”

“He was probably that interpreter Fletcher used last night,” Lanky put in, “at the temple of the snake.”

“Might be,” Lockwood agreed. “Anyway, this Indian knew about the Yaquente ceremonies that were being carried on in the temple. He also knew that anyone who would furnish mezcal buttons to the Yaquentes could get a lot out of them and make it an easy matter to work them into fomenting a religious war. They talked it over with Addison and Fletcher. It looked good. Once the revolutionists had conquered a few towns and picked up strength they planned to attack Chihuahua City. Thereafter Herrick, Addison and Fletcher had plans of their own. The government mint is located at Chihuahua City, you know. Once the mint was in their hands they planned to seize the gold and silver bullion, transport the loot to the States, double-cross the Indians and forget the revolution.”

“Jeepers!” Lance exclaimed. “They reckoned to work on a big scale, didn’t they? What a plot! Going to raid the Chihuahua mint, eh? The nerve of the skunks!”

“There isn’t much more to tell,” Lockwood resumed. “Frank Bowman had arrived in Pozo Verde on the trail of those stolen bills. He worked himself in with the Herrick gang. Some of them talked too much—as they later admitted, Addison told me. Addison thinks that Bowman must have commenced to grow suspicious of Fletcher. Fletcher was friendly with Professor Jones. Probably Bowman didn’t know what the tie-up was but by that time he must have begun to suspect the game was bigger than he had at first thought. Anyway, when the professor stated he was going to make a trip down into Mexico Bowman got the job as his guide. Then Bowman made his bad mistake.”