But had the murder of the ranger been part of the plot? Otis could hardly believe that the rustlers would kill Fyffe merely to “frame up” a case against him. It would have been too easy to have gotten rid of him by a shot from ambush.

And then, there was the writing on the floor of the ranger cabin. Otis knew beyond any possibility of a doubt that the scrawl had been written by Ranger Fyffe himself, and by no other. No, that by no stretch of the imagination might be called a frame-up.

Otis was completely at a loss.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said at length, but without revealing any of the suspicions which had come upon him so suddenly. “I guess the Sheriff knows what he’s doing. I’ve told you all there is to tell, and I’ve told you the truth.”

Sterling Carr slowly shook his massive head.

“But why did you pick on Gus Bernat to give your alibi, son?” he asked uncomprehendingly. “There’s lots of others just as good, and better. Now, I have a hunch that if you’d remember, even now, that it wasn’t Gus Bernat, but Jess Bledsoe that seen you at the time of the killin’, that Jess would step right up at the time of the trial an’ give ’em all the details.”

“Dad,” began Otis, very soberly, “I know Jess would do it in a minute. But I’m not going to ask anyone to perjure himself to save me. I believe I could clear this thing up myself, if I had half a chance. Maybe I can, anyway. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your standing by me, because I know you feel that I’m lying to you. But I tell you again, and I’ll tell you every single time I see you, that I didn’t do it—I didn’t do it, and that’s all there is to it. How can I make it any stronger?”

His father gazed out through the barred window, across the rolling, wooded slopes of the Gros Ventre.

“Blamed if you don’t talk like you meant it, son. I know one person who wont ask more than your say-so to believe it, and that’s your sister Margaret.”

Otis was on the point of asking if Mariel had faith in his innocence, but a sudden feeling of diffidence restrained the question even as his lips were framing it. After all, why should Mariel, a comparative stranger, have any reason to vary from what seemed to be the opinion of the entire community? He kept silent.

Sterling Carr went on: “It may take every penny I’ve got, son, but I’ll see you 

 Prev. P 31/51 next