The copper era and Morenci leader., 1912-03-22

| QoSlr0Q CnlS MaCIa1r0 woman CO Q0! |! This was the important matter, and for its solution Keith possessed mere ly few hints, a few vague suggestions. She was expected to represent herself as Phyliis-Phyllis who? Some PhyI- lis surely whose physical resemblance to Hope must be sufficiently marked to be at once noticeable. Willoughby had evidently revealed to Hawley some hidden family secret, having money involved, no doubt, and in which the discovery of this mysteri ous Phyllis figured. She might, per haps, be a sister, or half-sister, who had disappeared, and remained ignor- | ant as to any inheritance. Hopes | picture shown by the boy, and re- mtnding Hawley at once of Christie Maclaire, had been the basis of the whole plot. Exactly what the details Of that plot might be Keith could not | figure out, but one thing was reason ably certain-it was proposed to de- fraud Hope. And who in the very truth was Hope? It suddenly occurred ] to him as a remarkably strange fact that he possessed not the slightest lnkling as to the girls name. Her brother had assumed to be called VII loughby when he enlisted in the army, and his companions continued to call him this. If he could interview the girl now for only five minutes he should be able probably to straighten out the whole intricate tangle. But where was she? Would she have re- mained until this time at Fort Larned with Kate Murphy?
 
 the next room. Apparently as Hawley arose carelessly from his edge of the washstand he had dislodged the glass, which fell shivering on the floor. Scott swore audibly at the loss
 Shut up, Bill" snapped the gam bier, irritated, you've got the bottle left. I'm going; there's nothing for any of us to do now, until after I see Christie You remain herei Do you understand d?-remain here. Damn me, if that drunken fool isn't waking up"
 There was a rattling of the rickety bed, and then the sound of Willough- by's voice, thick from liquor
 Almighty glad to see you, Bart am, indeed. Want money-Bill an both want money-can't drink with out money-can't eat without money shay, when you goin' stake us?"
 I'll see you again in the morning, Fred,' returned the other briefly. Go on back to sleep
 Will when I git good an ready go sleep, stay wake, just as I please don't care damn what yer do-got new frien' now
 "A new friend? Who?" Hawley spoke with aroused interest
 'Oh. he's all right-he's mighty fine fellow-come in wisout in-invita- tion-called her Hope-you fool, Bart Hawley, think my sister Christie Christie-damfino the name-my sis ter, Hope-don't want yer money my-my new friend, he'll stake me he knows my sister-Hope."
 The gambler grasped the speaker, shaking him into some slight sem blance of sobriety.
 Now, look here, Willoughby, I want the truth, and mean to have it," he in sisted Has some one been in here while Scott was gone?"
 "Sure-didn't I just tell yer?- friend O Hopes"
 Who was he? Speak up! I want the namel"
 There was a faint gurgling sound, as though the gamblers vice-like fin gers were at the boys throat; slight struggle, and then the choked voice gasped out:
 Let up! damn yer! He called him. self Jack Keith
 The dead silence which ensued was broken only by heavy breathing. Then Scott swore, bringing his fist down with a crash on the washstand
 That rather stumps yer, don't it, Bart? Well, 1t don't me. I tell yer it's just as I said from the first. It was Keith an that nigger what jumped ye in the cabin. They was hidin' there when we rode in. He just nat'rly pumped the gal, an now he's up here trailin' you. Blame 1t all. it makes me laugh"
 T don't see what you see to laugh at. This Keith isn't an easy man to play with. let me tell you. He may have got on to our game"
 "Oh, hell, Bart, don't lose your nerve. He can't do anything, because we've got the under holt. He's fugi- tive; all we got to do Is locate him, an have him flung back inter jail- there's murder an hoss-steaIing ag1n him."
 Hawley seemed to be thinking swiftly, while his companion took an other drink
 Well, pard, ain't that so?"
 No, that trick won't work, Scott. We could do it easily enough if we were down in Carson, where the boys would help us out. The trouble up here is that Wild Bill Hickock Is Marshal of Sheridan, and he and I | never did hitch. Besides, Keith was l one of his deputies down at Dodge two years ago-you remember when Dutch