on."

Curtis smiled.

"You're young. A guilty man would have rushed his crop into the elevators
and had his money ready to light out with. If Prescott pulls out
suddenly, he'll have to leave his property behind."

"The thing's between him and Wandle," Stanton persisted.

"Looks like that. Anyway, as the Austrian's at the settlement, we'll have
a good look round his homestead. It's possible that we'll find
something."

"What made you think of searching the place again? Anything in the last
instructions you got from Regina? You didn't show them to me."

"That's so. It isn't a part of my duty to consult you, and you're a bit
of a hustler. However, this is what I heard--a land agent in Navarino
sent for the district sergeant; told him he'd run across a man from
Sebastian at the hotel and the fellow got talking about Jernyngham. It
was the first the land agent had heard of the matter; but he was struck
by the date on which Jernyngham disappeared, because he'd had a deal with
him three days later."

"That's mighty strange. If he's right, Jernyngham couldn't have been
killed."

"Don't hustle!" said Curtis. "The fellow showed the sergeant the sale
record, but he described Jernyngham as a big, rather stout man with light
hair."

"Wandle!" exclaimed Stanton. "Are you going to arrest him?"

"Not yet. We might get him sent up for fraud and forgery, but if he had
anything to do with knocking Jernyngham out, he'll be more likely to give
us a clue of some kind while he's at large."

They rode on and reaching Wandle's farm searched the house carefully,
replacing everything exactly as they found it. They discovered nothing of
importance, but as they went out Curtis glanced at the ash and refuse
heap.

"We might have thought of that earlier," he said. "I've heard of people
trying to burn up things it might be dangerous to leave about."

Setting to work with a fork and shovel, they presently unearthed a rusty
iron object which Stanton picked up.

"Looks like a big meat can," he remarked. "Kind of curious that Wandle
should double it over this way and flatten it down."

Curtis took it from him and examined it carefully.

"It isn't a meat can; top edges are turned over a wire--here's a bit
sticking out--and it's had a handle. There's a hinge in another place.
The thing has been a box--a cash-box, I guess--one of the rubbishy kind
they sell for about a dollar."

"But what would make a man smash up his cash-box?"

"I