"And you took that away with you, leaving a forged instrument in its place?"It was now Fremont's turn to look amazed. He turned to Nestor with an eager look in his eyes.
"How did you know that?" he asked.
Nestor motioned for him to remain quiet. It was clear that Big Bob's hours were numbered, even his minutes.
"You are one of the heirs to the Tolford estate, and you objected to the manner in which the property was left by Julius Tolford, especially as it was left mostly to Cole Tolford and his heirs.
So you made a new will, as much like the old one as you could manage, and left it in the envelope?""Yes, I did that!"
"I thought so," said Nestor. "And you made a bad job out of it, for I had no difficulty in discovering the deception when I looked through the papers that night. The false will was on stained paper, like the other instruments, but the others were stained with age, while the one you introduced into the lot was colored with chemicals."Big Bob nodded and looked with astonishment at the boy.
"And Mr. Cameron came back and found you three in the suite?" Nestor went on.
Big Bob shook his head.
"You left before he returned?"
Another shake of the head, then the man whispered:
"Scoby was watching for him outside."
The night watchman seemed like a man about to throw a fit. He writhed about the floor, regardless of his injured leg, and tried to reach the speaker.
"And Scoby struck him down?" asked Nestor.
There was a strained silence in the room as they all waited for the reply, already suggested by Big Bob's previous words.
"Yes," he whispered. "Scoby struck him down with a billy."The accused man dropped back against the wall and his eyes closed.
It was plain that the words, together with his previous exertions and pain, had taken the nerve all out of the fellow.
"But Scoby did not do this of his own notion," Nestor went on, remorselessly. "It was done by your orders. You had bribed him to do it. It was your idea that if Cameron was killed no one would ever be able to detect the substitution of the false will for the original one."Big Bob nodded, but did not stop there.
"I wanted to take no chances," he said, with a choke in his voice.
"I wanted the property! I did not care for the mine especially, but I told Scoby that that was my motive--the securing of the description. I wanted to clear my title to the entire estate.
If the boy working there that night had not followed Fremont into the room, he, Fremont, would have been attacked also.""Then Fremont stood in your way?" asked Nestor.
Fremont, remembering Big Bob's talk with him about his early association with Mr. Cameron, his mention of the will, bent closer, a startled expression on his face.
"Yes, he stood in my way," was the reply. "He is the son of Cole Tolford, who was killed in New York a long time ago, and would have inherited the property.""And Mr. Cameron knew that?" asked Nestor, his old suspicions, voiced to Fremont at the time they talked of Mother Scanlon, recurring to his mind.
"Of course he knew," was the reply. "With Cameron out of the way, and the boy ignorant of his parentage, I would have been safe.
Still, I thought best to put Fremont out of my way also. Then there could have been no danger, for I was the next heir.""I understand!" Nestor said, greatly shocked at the revelation of the cold-blooded murder plot. "You had seen Fremont about the building, and yet you pretended not to know him after your men had taken him prisoner?""I knew him," was the faint reply. "My men captured the boy I described to them. I preferred that my men should think Ihad captured a marplot who had ruined their plans. Then they would have thought nothing of my killing him. But Ren Downs interfered.""That is the man who lies dead out there?"
Another nod from the injured man, now almost too weak to talk.
"It was your intention to kill Fremont? You wanted him to try to escape and have him shot down by another?""Yes, that was my plan. And Scoby and Felix if necessary.
I came here for that."
"Great Scott!" whispered Frank. "I reckon this chap got just what was coming to him! Only he ought to be hanged!""Hush!" whispered Nestor. "Look!"
Big Bob opened his eyes wider, shot out one hairy hand, gave a convulsive motion which shook his great frame so that the floor of the frail hut trembled, and then the end came. Later, when the body was given rude burial, the original will was found in a pocket of the dead man's coat, together with letters from his brother, Cole Tolford, asking him to go to New York, search out Mother Scanlon, and protect his son.
"Congratulations are in order, Mr. Black Bear!" Shaw whispered, as the papers were handed to Fremont, "but, somehow, I feel like waiting until we get back to little old New York before showing any enthusiasm. This has been a tragic trip."The other members of the party seemed to feel the same way, for the revelation of the dreadful plot and the death of Samuel Tolford, known as Big Bob, had cast a gloom over the party which not even the clearing up of the mystery could shake off.
