"Think of Miss Evelyn? What do you mean?" asked Eden, surprised.
"Why, she came last night, didn't she?"
"Not so anybody could notice it. No sign of her at the ranch."
Holley rose and walked up and down for a moment. "That's odd. That's very odd. She certainly arrived on the six-forty train."
"You're sure of that?" Eden asked.
"Of course I am. I saw her." Holley sat down again. "I wasn't very much occupied last night—it was one of my free nights—I have three hundred and sixty-five of them every year. So I strolled over to the station and met the six-forty. Thorn was there, too. A tall handsome girl got off the train, and I heard Thorn address her as Miss Evelyn. 'How's dad?' she asked. 'Get in,' said Thorn, 'and I'll tell you about him. He wasn't able to come to meet you himself.' The girl entered the car, and they drove away. Naturally, I thought she was brightening your life long before this."
Eden shook his head. "Funny business," he commented. "Thorn got back to the ranch a little after ten, and when he came he was alone. Charlie here discovered, with his usual acumen, that the car had traveled some thirty-nine miles."
"Also clinging to accelerator, as though scraped off from shoe of Thorn, small fragment of red clay," added Chan. "You are accustomed round here, Mr. Holley. Maybe you can mention home of red clay."
"Not offhand," replied Holley. "There are several places—But say, this thing gets deeper and deeper. Oh—I was forgetting—there's a letter here for you, Eden."
He handed over a neat missive addressed in an old-fashioned hand. Eden inspected it with interest. It was from Madame Jordan, a rather touching appeal not to let the deal for the pearls fall through. He went back and began to read it aloud. Mrs. Jordan could not understand. Madden was there, he had bought the pearls—why the delay? The loss of that money would be serious for her.
When he had finished, Eden looked accusingly at Chan, then tore the letter to bits and threw them into a wastepaper basket. "I'm about through," he said. "That woman is one of the dearest old souls that ever lived, and it strikes me we're treating her shamefully. After all, what's happening out at Madden's ranch is none of our business. Our duty to Madame Jordan—"
"Pardon me," broke in Chan, "but coming to that, I have sense of duty most acute myself. Loyalty blooms in my heart forever—"
"Well, and what do you think we ought to do?" demanded Eden.
"Watch and wait."
"But good lord—we've done that. I was thinking about it this morning. One inexplicable event after another, and never anything definite, anything we can get our teeth into. Such a state of affairs may go on forever. I tell you, I'm fed up."
"Patience," said Chan, "are a very lovely virtue. Through long centuries Chinese cultivate patience like kind gardener tending flowers. White men leap about similar to bug in bottle. Which are better method, I inquire?"
"But listen, Charlie. All this stuff we've discovered out at the ranch—that's for the police."
"For stupid Captain Bliss, maybe. He with the feet of large extensiveness."
"I can't help the size of his feet. What's that got to do with it? No, sir—I can't see why we don't give Madden the pearls, get his receipt, and then send for the sheriff and tell him the whole story. After that, he can worry about who was killed at Madden's ranch."
"He would solve the problem," scoffed Chan. "Great mind, no doubt, like Captain Bliss. Your thought has, from me, nothing but hot opposition."
"Well, but I'm considering Madame Jordan. I've got her interests at heart."
Chan patted him on the back. "Who can question that? You fine young fellow, loyal and kind. But, listen now to older heads. Mr. Holley, you have inclination to intrude your oar?"
"I certainly have," smiled Holley. "I'm all on the side of Chan, Eden. It would be a pity to drop this thing now. The sheriff's a good sort, but all this would be too deep for him. No, wait just a little while—"
"All right," sighed Eden. "I'll wait. Provided you tell me one thing. What are we waiting for?"
"Madden goes to Pasadena tomorrow," Chan suggested. "No doubt Thorn will accompany, and we quench this Gamble somehow. Great time for us. All our search at ranch up to now hasty and breathless, like man pursuing trolley-car. Tomorrow we dig deep."
"You can do it," replied Eden. "I'm not eager to dig for the sort of prize you want." He paused. "At that, I must admit I'm pretty curious myself. Charlie, you're an old friend of the Jordans, and you can take the responsibility for this delay."
"Right here on shoulders," Chan agreed, "responsibility reclines. Same way necklace reposes on stomach. Seem to coddle there now, those Phillimore pearls, happy and content. Humbly suggest you take this aimless journey to Barstow."
Eden looked at his watch. "I suppose I might as well. Bit of city life never did anybody any harm. But I warn you that when I come back, I want a little light. If any more dark, mysterious things happen at that ranch, I certainly will run right out into the middle of the desert and scream."
Taking the train proved an excellent plan, for on the station platform he met Paula Wendell, who evidently had the same idea. She was trim and charming in riding togs, and her eyes sparkled with life.
"Hello," she said. "Where are you bound?"
"Going to Barstow, on business," Eden explained.
"Is it important?"
"Naturally. Wouldn't squander my vast talents on any other kind."
A dinky little train wandered in, and they found a seat together in one of its two cars.
"Sorry to hear you're needed in Barstow," remarked the girl. "I'm getting off a few stations down. Going to rent a horse and take a long ride up into Lonely Canyon. It wouldn't have been so lonely if you could have come along."
Eden smiled happily. Certainly one had few opportunities to look into eyes like hers. "What station do we get off at?" he inquired.
"We? I thought you said—"
"The truth isn't in me, these days. Barstow doesn't need my presence any more than you need a beauty doctor. Lonely Canyon, after today, will have to change its name."
"Good," she answered. "We get off at Seven Palms. The old rancher who rents me a horse will find one for you, I'm sure."
"I'm not precisely dressed for the role," admitted Eden. "But I trust it will be all the same to the horse."
The horse didn't appear to mind. His rather dejected manner suggested that he had expected something like this. They left the tiny settlement known as Seven Palms and cantered off across the desert.
"For to admire and for to see, for to behold this world so wide," said Eden. "Never realized how very wide it was until I came down here."
"Beginning to like the desert?" the girl inquired.
"Well, there's something about it," he admitted. "It grows on you, that's a fact. I don't know that I could put the feeling into words."
"I'm sure I can't," she answered. "Oh, I envy you, coming here for the first time. If only I could look at this country again with a fresh, disinterested eye. But it's just location to me. I see all about me the cowboys, the cavalcades, the caballeros of Hollywood. Tragedies and feats of daring, rescues and escapes. I tell you, these dunes and canyons have seen more movies than Will Hays."
"Hunting locations today?" Eden asked.
"Always hunting," she sighed. "They've just sent me a new script—as new as those mountains over there. All about the rough cowpuncher and the millionaire's dainty daughter from the East—you know."
"I certainly do. Girl's fed up on those society orgies, isn't she?"
"Who wouldn't be? However, the orgies are given in full, with