"
"I have not the pleasure of that lady's acquaintance, but Timmons
informed me this morning that she had taken the late train last night
for the East--isn't that true, Enright?"
The lawyer managed to nod, but without venturing to remove his gaze
from Westcott's face. The latter never moved, but his eyes seemed to
harden.
"I have had quite enough of that, Lacy," he said sternly, and the
watchful saloon-keeper noted his fingers close more tightly on the butt
of his revolver. "This is no case for an alibi. I know exactly what I
am talking about, and--I am going to have a direct answer, either from
you or Enright.
"This is the situation: I was the man listening at the window of your
shack last night. Moore may, or may not have recognised me, but,
nevertheless, I was the man. I was there long enough to overhear a
large part of your conversation. I know why you consented to close
down La Rosita for the present; I know your connection with this gang
of crooks from New York; I know that Fred Cavendish was not murdered,
but is being held a prisoner somewhere, until Enright, here, can steal
his money under some legal form.
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