The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1935-06-13

| yond, and for a moment father and
| daughter stood together In the door
way, staring at what the others could
not see. Then, slowly, with a curious
uncertainty, Campo Ragland moved
out of their sight. Jean followed him
with the lamp.
| Kentucky Jones, with the others,
went to the door through which Campo
had disappeared.
The room was long and broad. In
one end a huge fireplace with six
| foot opening was built Of rugged
| chunks of the native rock, and near
this Campo stood, holding up a second
lamp.
They heard him say, you're right !;
there's no question about It."
Jim Humphreys said, rs there any
thing we can"
Ragland shot them a quick glance,
as If momentarily he had forgotten
that he was not alone. "It's nothing
much, / guess" he said in a rocky
voice. This dump has been searched,
all right. That's ALL Wait back, you"
Jim Humphreys and Billy Petersen
returned to the kitchen. At the door
way Kentucky Jones turned and stood
for a moment In final survey Of the
| main room. He saw Ragland pass on
into the next room. Jean moved to
follow him.
Then suddenly the girl stopped and
stood rigid Following her eye, Ken
lucky Jones saw at once what she was
looking at.
On the wall hung a cheap picture
frame, perhaps ten inches in its longer
dimension, made of narrow dark wood.
picture frames by the fact that there
was no picture in it. Through its
glass could be seen the torn MANILA
paper which had backed the frame,
and section of the wall.
Jean Ragland set her lamp down,
stepped forward and jerked the empty
frame from the wall. For a moment
she stood irresolute, glancing quickly
about her.
"Do you want me to wrangle that for
you, too?" said Kentucky from the
doorway.
For an instant she stared at him, her
eyes wide and hostile. 1t was sur
prising to him-a little. That after
noon, at the inquest, she had pressed
into his keeping the bullet she had
taken from the evidence. But now he
knew that she had not elected him as
her ally, nor wanted more than mo-
mentary aid.
Her fathers step sounded close at
hand beyond the other door. Jean
dropped the picture frame behind
wooden chest that stood against the
wall, and picked up her lamp again
as her father re-entered.
They went back into the kitchen.
Campo Ragland paused in the main
room moment to exchange the brief
est sort Of word with Jean. But his
announcement was to all of them, at
once.
Somebody's ransacked this Dump"
he told them slowly. Somebody's
ransacked it good. There's a rifle
gone"
Lee Bishop said, SIS that all?"
"They pried open the cash box, but
didn't take anything, so far as know.
1t beats me-"
"We can spare a rifle, I guess" Jean
said sharply. Except for certain
soberness, Kentucky was unable to
make out in jeans face any sign of
the cold still terror he had seen in it
little while before. But he saw now
that a change had come over Campo
Ragland, Campo's face was stiffly ex-
pressionless; but the eyes were those
of man lost in uncertainty.
Kentucky Jones knew Campo to be
typical of the Wolf Bench breed of
owners, man as durable as the hide
of his own range-bred ponies. Behind
his genial facade Campo had always
been completely sure of himself. But
now, while the outer aspect Of the man
was still little changed, Jones saw that
the inner confidence was gone, as If
the qualities which had made him the
fit boss of hard-held and forever-re-
sistant range were cut through at the
root.
"We may as well get some shut-eye,
/ guess" Campo said. Zone Of you
fellers better turn out In the morning
and load the stove"
"Tm pot-buster," Kentucky offered.
Leave breakfast to me-"
"All right. Nights well turn into
lacks bunk, then"
Alone in the little lean-to room off
the kitchen where lack had lived, Ken
lucky Jones sat for little while on
the bunk. and smoked final cigarette.
1t was time to take stock Of what he
knew.
He did not conceal from himself that
his interest in the murder OF Mason
turned upon the involvement of Jean.
The foundation Of the thing was, of
course, the fact that John Mason was
dead, shot from the saddle within
fifty yards Of Ragland's door as he ar
rived from the SO on Bob Elliot's pinto
/ Il l.