now posed a question of his own.
'What were they doing here, Mr. Holmes?' He gestured toward the hilltop, and I winced at the thought of the three corpses growing cold in the afternoon sun.
'They were sent to remove evidence,' replied the sleuth. 'We'd best get started on the job at hand, for we can do some of it at least.'
Holmes leaned the Beals rifle against a rock and began to remove his coat. I judged what he was about and started to do the same, as did our companion, but Holmes had another thought.
'Sir,' he said, 'and for want of another name, I must call you that; in a short time there will be others present. It might be expedient if you are not here.'
The imposter could not suppress an exclamation of surprise. 'You're letting me go? What of the gold robbery?'
'You were no part of that,' said Holmes. 'Though it is my thought that you might put some distance between yourself and England.'
Holmes overrode a half-formed interruption of mine. 'Not that I'll be after you, but it is possible that someone else knows of your masquerade. Had the robbery gone amiss, you would have made a splendid cat's-paw and might still serve as a red herring in the matter.'
The gunfighter was nodding in agreement with Holmes' words, as was I.
'What about the bodies?' persisted the man.
This time he did not gesture toward the hill, which was throwing a first shadow on the three of us.
'The idea of a trade suggests itself,' replied the detective, and despite the seriousness, nay grimness, of the moment, there was a flicker of humor about him. 'That gun of yours Watson seems so familiar with. You might give it, with its spent cartridges, to my medical friend.' His long fingers extracted the revolver he had in his ulster pocket; and Holmes extended it, butt-first, to the marksman. 'This may not suit your fancy, but it is loaded. I seldom carry firearms anyway.'
Our youthful-looking companion seemed uncomfortable. 'There's not many that hands me a loaded gun, Mr. Holmes.'
'I'm sure you'd feel naked without one,' said my friend in a brusque tone. Then his manner was relieved by a smile. 'You understand that Watson, by virtue of this arrangement, will gain considerable notoriety not really his due.'
Holmes' eyes swiveled toward me. 'I picture you, good chap, as going down in history as the fastest gun on Baker Street.'
'I say now, Holmes,' was all I could come up with because of a wave of pride—not prompted by the ridiculous situation that Holmes was joshing about, but for my friend. He was not always the relentless man-hunter that the journals pictured with such ghoulish glee.
The former employee of the B & N Railroad released the bolstered gun, affixed with a clip to his belt, and passed it to me. Holmes looked at him for a long moment and then said, simply, 'Goodbye.'
The sleuth turned with an abrupt movement and began to push at one of the sizeable rocks blocking the entrance to the mine. I stepped closer to the American, lowering my voice. Possibly Holmes did not hear me.
'Goodbye, McCarty.'
For the first time since our paths had crossed, there was genuine humor on the man's face. 'I had a mind you knew.' He clasped my outstretched hand, and I was surprised. He had spent his life in the outdoors and riding back trails at that, yet his palm and the inside of his fingers were as soft as a baby's or a safecracker's. 'Thank you, Doctor.'
Retrieving the Beals rifle, he strode into the surrounding woods without a backward glance. His shoulders might have been slightly bent from the thought of the twisted trail behind him and the rocky road ahead.
Tossing my topcoat on the ground, I joined Holmes in pushing and tugging at obstructing rocks.
Chapter 16
All Fools Together
NOT LONG thereafter we heard the sound of Dandy Jack's four-wheeler. Holmes flicked perspiration from his brow, for we had made a fair start at the job. Retrieving his coat and donning it, he indicated for me to do the same. When the bay horse drew up in the clearing, there was no obvious indication as to what we had been about.
Dandy Jack's eyebrows were raised and he threw a patient glance heavenward, for the poor man obviously wondered if he was working for a circus. Burlington Bertie hopped from the carriage with a welcoming smile on his lips and a wise look in his eyes. He was a wedge of a man and brawny, but destined to be recorded in the eyes of an observer as nondescript in size, for with him was his younger brother. Tiny's broad face had a childlike serenity about it, with wide and innocent eyes and an anxious smile that seemed painted on. His smallish head topped a short but massive neck that disappeared into anthropoidal shoulders and a chest that could have modeled for a sculpture of Hercules. His short legs had to be like steel girders to support his bulk, and he removed himself from the carriage with dainty grace. Tiny was forced to maneuver with care, for if he unwittingly leaned against a tree, it might become uprooted. The bay horse threw a backward glance of relief when Tiny was supported by mother earth, and it whinnied and flicked its tail as though eager to depart.
The horse's wish was granted by Holmes, and his driver must have thought he was in charge of a shuttle service.
'It is back to Brent, Dandy Jack,' said Holmes. 'Locate that constable you mentioned.'
'Sindelar,' replied the worthy, as though life held no more surprises.
'Tell him a hearse is needed, but there is a doctor present who will sign the death certificates.'
Dandy Jack's lethargic acceptance of all things was jostled by this, and he glanced around hastily in search of the bodies suggested by Holmes' words. He seemed relieved when he did not locate them.
'Tell Constable Sindelar that I will explain the matter to him. Best give him my card,' Holmes added, passing one to the startled driver. 'Since my party will be returning to London shortly, I will inform Scotland Yard, for they have an interest in what has transpired.'
Thrusting the card into a patched pocket, Dandy Jack reined his steed around and departed with more alacrity than he had on his last return trip.
The sleuth now indicated the mine entrance to his two associates. 'We have to get inside there,' he stated, and that is all he had to say.
Tiny, with Burlington Bertie in his wake, moved toward the hill like an ocean liner, giving the impression that he might just walk through it. It occurred to me that I had never heard this goliath speak, though he certainly understood Holmes' words and had some private method of communication with his brother, who frequently interpreted his thoughts.
If Bertie did all the talking for the twosome, the former smash-and-grabber and wharfside brawler did not have to do much work. Tiny went at the mine entrance like a construction machine, and Holmes had to step lively to avoid flying rocks as he supervised the effort. I withdrew to a safe distance, for my energies, obviously, were not needed.
Holmes and I, without the boys from Limehouse, would have been unable to force our way into the mine; and I wondered how the bodies on the hilltop had intended to perform that task, for surely that had been their idea before our arrival. I also wondered why Holmes had been so sure that the gold in the vaults of the Bank of England had come from the treasure train, for now it was obvious, even to me, where his mind was leading him.
A cessation of activity within the mine prompted me to rejoin the threesome. The entrance was now clear enough, and ahead yawned the dark abyss of the main shaft.
'We've need of light on the scene,' said Holmes.
Tiny turned, gently maneuvering his bulk around me, and disappeared through the entrance. He treated a statement from Holmes like an excerpt from the graven tablets of the divine commandments. His ''Tis said, 'tis done,' philosophy was certainly helpful in matters like the one we were involved in.
Within the dim mine interior I saw Holmes looking at Bertie questioningly and there was a flash of the man's teeth in response. In the distance, we all heard the rending protest of timber savagely being torn asunder. Then
