e has written there
half a dozen times in a row, '$20,000,' and just below it twice, 'W. & S.
Ex. Co.' Finally, the one word, 'To-night.'"

She read it all, read it with a heart heavy as lead, and knew that there
he had left in his own strong, bold handwriting convincing evidence
against himself. Still, she did not doubt him in the least, but there
could be no question now that he knew of the intended shipment, that
absent-mindedly he had jotted down this data while he was thinking about
it in connection with his own debts.

The sheriff went on tightening the chain of evidence in a voice that for
all its kindness seemed to her remorseless as fate. "It turns out that Mr.
Jordan of the Cattleman's National Bank mentioned this shipment to your
father that morning. Mr. Cullison was trying to raise money from him, but
he couldn't let him have it. Every bank in the city refused him a loan.
Yet next morning he paid off two thousand dollars he owed from a poker
game."

"He must have borrowed the money from some one," she said weakly.

"That money he paid in twenty-dollar bills. The stolen express package was
in twenties. You know yourself that this is a gold country. Bills ain't so
plentiful."

The girl's hand went to her heart. Faith in her father was a rock not to
be washed away by any amount of evidence. What made her wince was the
amount of circumstantial testimony falling into place so inexorably
against him.

"Is that all?" she asked despairingly.

"I wish it were, Miss Cullison. But it's not. A man came round the corner
and shot at the robber as he was escaping. His hat fell off. Here it is."

As Kate took the hat something seemed to tighten around her heart. It
belonged to her father. His personality was stamped all over it. She even
recognized a coffee stain on the under side of the brim. There was no need
of the initials L. C. to tell her whose it had been. A wave of despair
swept over her. Again she was on the verge of breaking down, but
controlled herself as with a tight curb.

Bolt's voice went on. "Next day your father disappeared, Miss Cullison. He
was here in town all morning. His friends knew that suspicion was
fastening on him. The inference is that he daren't wait to have the truth
come out. Mind, I don't say he's guilty. But it looks that way. Now,
that's my case. If you were sheriff in my place, what would you do?"

Her answer flashed back instantly. "If I knew Luck Cullison, I would be
sure the