Bixby bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because, even as I escaped, I saw the savages kill her,” he said.
“Then, if you saw that, why did you offer a reward for her safe return?” Hendel asked.
“Maybe it is because I just didn’t want to admit it to myself,” Bixby said.
Matt applauded quietly, and as he did so, both Bixby and Hendel looked toward him.
“I congratulate you, Bixby,” Matt said. “With a performance like that, you should be on the stage.”
“What are you talking about, sir?” Bixby asked, the tone of his voice righteously indignant.
Matt took the little square of green cloth from his pocket and put it on the table.
“What is that?” Bixby asked.
“You don’t recognize it?” Matt replied.
“No, I don’t recognize it. Why should I?”
“But surely you recognize it, Mr. Bixby,” Hendel said. “That’s a piece of material from the dress Cynthia was wearing the day the two of you left to look at land.”
Bixby looked at the little square of cloth, then nodded. “Yes, now that you mention it, it is what she was wearing,” he agreed. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting to see it here like this.” He looked up at Matt. “You found this, did you?”
“I did.”
“Then, does this not prove that she is dead?”
“On the contrary,” Matt said, unfolding the cloth to expose the note that was inside. “If you read this, it will prove that she is still alive.”
Bixby grabbed the note, and as he read it, Matt studied the expression on his face. He recognized the moment Bixby read the crucial words:
Finishing the note, Bixby folded it and started to stick it in his pocket.
“May I see the note, Mr. Bixby?” Hendel asked.
Bixby glared at Hendel. “No, you cannot see it. This is a personal letter from my wife to me.”
“From the wife you saw killed?” Matt asked.
“Well, I—I—thank God I was mistaken. There was some distance between us. I suppose it is possible that I just thought I saw her killed.”
“Show the note to Mr. Hendel.”
“I see no reason why I should do that just because you ask me to,” Bixby said.
“If you thought I asked you to show Hendel the note, you misunderstood me,” Matt said. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you to show him the note.”
“You—you have no right to order me to do such a thing,” Bixby said. Then, looking at the determined expression on Matt’s face, Bixby broke into a sweat, licked his lips, and with trembling hands, gave the note to Hendel.
Hendel read it, looked up at the moment he read the line about Delshay letting Bixby go, then returned to the note. After he finished reading it, he returned the note to Bixby without comment.
“Uh, naturally, after receiving this note, my position has changed,” Bixby said. “I will not be returning to New York until we have found her. Mr. Jensen, I would appreciate it very much, sir, if you would continue to look for her.”
“Call off your reward,” Matt said. “Not only were a dozen or more innocent Indians killed because of that foolish reward, it has made my job harder.”
“All right.”
“Do it now,” Matt said.
“Now? Here? Look at them, they are drunk and carrying on—how do you expect me to get their attention?”
“I can get their attention for you, Mr. Bixby,” Hendel said.
“You? Ha! How can someone like you get their attention?”
“Watch me,” Hendel replied with a confident smile.
Standing, Hendel put his fingers in his mouth, then let out with an ear-piercing whistle. As he promised, it got everyone’s attention as the talking halted in mid-conversation while all turned to see what was going on.
“Gentlemen—and ladies,” Hendel added, taking in the half-dozen or so women who were in the Dry Gulch, “excuse me for interrupting, but my employer, Mr. Bixby, has an announcement to make.”
Hendel sat down and, with some hesitancy, Bixby stood up. He was extremely cognizant of the fact that everyone in the saloon was staring at him, and he cleared his throat before he began to speak.
“I, uh, hereby withdraw the reward offer of ten thousand dollars.”
“What?” Willis shouted. “Why?”
“A question has been raised about the efficacy of the attack on the Indian village. It is entirely possible that
