Killer’s Can’t Fly by Edward parrish Ware Page 2
statement.
With customary native stoicism the “Exactly that way!” Hale insisted. “He laid a three men listened attentively while Hale trail to the bayou which looked exactly like sketched briefly the situation up to that the trail of a dog, a deer, or a wolf.”
moment. When he made his point about the
“Hell, yes!” Joe Brant shouted then.
telltale trails outside in the snow, he saw that
“Well—I’ll be danged if that wasn’t a cute the impression made went deep. The evidence one! His stilt holes looked exactly like the against the girl was conclusively direct. But lugholes them dogs made all over
they made no comment.
everywhere!”
“Now,” Hale went on briskly, “the
“And he got away with the loot that
single trail made in the snow by the man who was hid here!” Lance Barwick broke in
came in was not that of the man called Cliff excitedly. “Yore job ain’t done yet, Hale. Yuh Bonner. Bonner had not been out in the snow.
figgered out how the killer got away, but yuh That nearly filled trail was made by the person ain’t got the loot.”
who murdered Bonner.”
“There was no loot here,” Hale said
“Well—where at is he now?” young
queerly. “The search was just for a stall. The Brant asked, his face puzzled. “If he come in man you knew as Bonner—”
here and killed Bonner, then how did he go
“Who was he,” Lee Ruffner rasped, “if
out of here again without laying a trail?”
he wasn’t Bonner?”
“He couldn’t!” Barwick declared.
“At a guess,” Hale said thoughtfully,
“Killers can’t fly, no more than us fellers can.
“I’d say he was Dud Ballew, Shawnee
The patrolman is talking foolishment!”
Hargett’s sidekick who faded out of the
“Patrolmen mostly always does talk
picture a few months ago. When Shawnee foolishment,” Lee Ruffner contributed. “This came here and killed him last night,” he went
’un ain’t no different than his pardners!”
on calmly, “he did so for two reasons. One Hale merely grinned. “This man shot
was to keep the loot all for himself. The other Bonner down, and then searched the house.
was because he thought Ruthie had fallen for Hargett, the bandit, was known to have rich him.”
loot with him, and this killing was done for
“Yuh claim that Shawnee Hargett is
the loot. After the search, the killer determined somewheres about, and that he done this here
Killer’s Can’t Fly
7
killing?” Brant demanded in astonishment.
came to his feet in one pantherish motion, his
“Yuh shore have lost yore mind!” gun flashing from his shirt bosom.
Barwick offered in a daze.
The patrolman’s six-gun, drawn so
“He’s feeding us bunk!” Lee Ruffner
swiftly as to elude the eye, roared once. The snarled. “That dead man on the floor is outlaw, his weapon muzzle up and exploding Shawnee Hargett—and unless he killed harmlessly toward the loft above, jumped himself, then Ruthie done it. Howcome yuh convulsively in answer to the stunning report figger Hargett is alive, and hereabouts?”
of the patrolman’s gun, and his weapon
“That stilt trick told me so,” Hale thudded on the floor.
obliged quietly. “An old Indian trick—to walk Hale’s bullet had smashed through his
on forked sticks in snow and mud to conceal right shoulder, stunning him by its force.
their trails. Hargett is half Indian—Shawnee.”
Hale was on him instantly. He pushed
“Pretty smart, mebbe,” Ruffner him savagely back into the chair, and snapped scoffed. “But how d’yuh aim to pin the job on cuffs on the killer’s wrists.
Hargett, granting there still is a Hargett Ruthie gave one wild, frightened cry—
alive?”
and flew to the opened arms of young Joe
“A pair of boots will do that,” Hale
Brant, who folded her tight.
answered calmly. “Those chair posts he used Barwick walked over, stooped, and
for stilts were varnished. The killer’s boots, squinted inquiringly at the swamper’s boots.
where they rubbed the posts, will be smeared He snapped erect.
with it!”
“Hell’s fire, Hale!” he bleated. “There ain’t no varnish on them there boots!”
UTTER silence greeted that astounding angle.
“Varnish doesn’t rub off, unless a
Brant’s jaw fell, and he stared steadily at the chemical is used,” Hale informed him quietly, patrolman while comprehension took full with a grin. “But Shawnee Hargett didn’t hold. Barwick swore excitedly, and jerked his know that. So he walked right into the trap shaggy head in confirmation. Lee Ruffner and gave himself away. Now,” he finished, seemed frozen in his chair.
yanking the wounded killer to his feet, “we’ll Then, a savage oath blasting from his
go to the village and have a look in the cabin lips, he whipped one booted leg upwards, of Hargett, alias Ruffner. Ten to one we’ll find glanced at it, then flung the other up and the loot hidden there.”
looked at it. His black eyes swept straight to And they did.
Hale’s, flaring with a wild animal look, as he