Chapter III: Treachery and Tragedy

"I'm no hand at spinning yarns," remarked Cameron after he and the rest had seated themselves comfortably in canvas chairs, "but this is no yarn. It's history, and has to do with the dishonor of a brother officer, one Captain Goff Fortescue, of the --th Infantry, who, two years ago, was stationed at Fort Totten. It isn't pleasant for me to tell of a brother officer's disgrace, but the story will have to be repeated or you won't be able to understand what the finding of this dagger means."

"The knife belonged to Captain Goff Fortescue?" asked Matt, remembering the initials on the handle.

"Yes. There now appears to be not the least doubt of that. I went up to the post and showed the knife to a member of the Signal Corps who used to belong to Fortescue's company. He declares that he has seen that dagger in Fortescue's possession a dozen times. Fortescue picked it up in Italy once while he was abroad--in Italy, the home of the stiletto. He was very proud of it, and always had the weapon about him, in a small sheath."

Cameron was silent for a little, examining with pensive eyes the rusted dagger which he had laid on a table in front of him.

"Fortescue came to Totten from the Presidio, at San Francisco," he finally went on. "I presume you have heard how eager one nation is to secure the plans of another nation's defenses----"

"I know a good deal about that," interjected Matt grimly. "Other nations are just as eager to find out about submarine boats belonging to another nation--and to destroy them, if possible. When your cousin, Ensign Glennie, went around South America with me in the submarine _Grampus_, we had our hands full keeping clear of the Japs."

"Exactly," said Cameron. "I know about that. Well, our defenses in and around San Francisco Bay, their strength as to guns and calibre of the guns, the situation and power of the disappearing cannon, and all that, might become of importance to several nations. Such information, if it can be secured, is well paid for. That is the pit into which poor Fortescue dropped--killing as bright a prospect as ever lay before any officer in the service.

"While Fortescue was stationed at Totten, he went across to Devil's Lake City on a week's leave. His excuse was that he had to make a business trip to St. Paul, and when he went he carried a suit case with him. The eastbound train was late, and Fortescue checked his suit case at the hotel and went to pass an hour or two with friends. In some way, the clerk at the hotel mixed the checks, and a commercial traveler from Omaha got Fortescue's grip by mistake, while Fortescue was visiting his friends.

"Both grips, it transpired, looked exactly alike--you've seen suit cases that way, I guess--and when the drummer took the grip to his room he was surprised to find that his key wouldn't unlock it. It was necessary for the drummer to get into the case, and he broke the lock. Instead of finding what he was looking for, he discovered a mass of plans and blue-prints, with sheet after sheet of memoranda, all descriptive of our defensive works in and around San Francisco!

"Naturally, the drummer was astounded. Then, for the first time, he looked at the lettering on the end of the suit case. Just as you found on that dagger, he discovered on the suit case the initials, 'G. F.' While he was looking over the documents Fortescue burst wildly into the room and demanded his property. Of course, the drummer gave up the suit case and the papers. He thought no more of the matter just then, for Fortescue was an officer of the army and, the drummer believed, entitled to the documents.

"Three days later Fortescue was discovered dead in the woods not far from the place where Ping was found by the Indian the afternoon of the aëroplane trials. He had been slain by a dagger thrust and stripped of all his personal possessions. There was no marks of a scuffle, and the affair became a great mystery, for Fortescue's dagger--that dagger--was missing, although the sheath was still in Fortescue's breast pocket.

"The news got out. The drummer, who was at Grand Forks, read an account of the affair in a newspaper, and immediately started for Totten. He told what he knew about the plans in Fortescue's satchel. This information pointed to shame and disgrace, in the matter of Fortescue, but every one reserved judgment, not wishing to judge the captain until more concerning the affair had come out.

"Fortescue had started for St. Paul. Why had he not gone there? Instead, he was found south of the lake, in the woods, dead from a dagger thrust.

"Why had he the plans and memoranda in his possession? And where were the suit case and the plans?"

"Some thought he had been going to sell the plans to the agent of some foreign nation, that he was afraid the commercial traveler would tell of the mistake made in the hotel, and that he had got rid of the satchel and taken his own life. The bottom of the lake, just off the place where Fortescue was found, was dragged, but the satchel could not be found. Nor has it been found to this day."

Cameron paused.

"That's what happened, Cameron," said Matt. "Fortescue was treacherous. When he saw he had been discovered, his treasonable designs so worked upon him that he probably destroyed the satchel and the plans and killed himself."

"Wait, Motor Matt," proceeded Cameron; "there's more to it. The same day Fortescue started across Devil's Lake to take the train east, a soldier named Cant Phillips deserted from Fort Totten. This Phillips also came from the Presidio, and belonged with Fortescue's company. The soldier was never found--and this, you will remember, happened two years ago."

"But what has Phillips to do with Fortescue and the plans?"

"Here is where guesswork comes in. Ping found the knife on the spot where Siwash Charley and two of his villainous comrades carried the boy the night the aëroplane was tampered with. Suppose Siwash Charley had dropped the knife?"

"More likely," returned Matt, "Fortescue dropped it after he stabbed himself."

"No. The ground was searched all around in that vicinity, and the knife could not be found. If Fortescue gave himself a mortal wound, he would have had to drop the knife on the spot. It wasn't there at that time. The knife, as a matter of fact, hasn't laid so long in the woods as its appearance would indicate. The rust is only on the surface of the steel, and fifteen minutes' work will clean the dagger so that it will be almost as bright as ever. I don't think it has been in the woods more than two weeks. In short, it's my notion that Siwash Charley dropped it when he and his pals carried Ping to the place where he was left."

This was rather startling, but still Matt and McGlory were unable to puzzle out the point Cameron was driving at.

"How could Siwash Charley get hold of the knife?" asked Matt.

"Siwash Charley appeared in this part of the country, from nowhere in particular, some year and a half ago. He was accused of stealing horses, but the crime was never proved against him."

"I'm a Piute," breathed McGlory, "if I can see what Siwash has to do with this Fortescue party."

Without seeming to notice the comment, Cameron went on:

"Cant Phillips may have been concerned in the treachery that has to do with Fortescue's plans. Possibly he met Fortescue in the woods, here to the south of the lake, the day he deserted; that he and Fortescue quarreled; that Phillips felled Fortescue with a blow of the fist and then took the dagger from Fortescue's pocket and completed his work; and then, following that, Phillips may have skipped out with the suit case, the plans--and the dagger."

"But how," said Matt, still puzzled, "could Siwash Charley get the dagger from this man Phillips, assuming that what you guess about the affair is true?"

"I believe," and here Cameron leaned forward and spoke sternly and impressively, "that Cant Phillips and Siwash Charley are one and the same!"

Matt, McGlory, and even Ping were profoundly stirred by this announcement.

"But," cried Matt, "does Siwash Charley look like Cant Phillips?"

"Not much, so far as I've been able to discover. Still, two years will make a big change in a man--especially if the man does what he can to help on the change. Fortescue killed himself two years ago, and it was a year and a half ago that Siwash Charley appeared in this part of the country. At times there is a soldierly bearing about Siwash Charley which may have been the result of training in the army. Besides, he is about the height and build of Phillips. A soldier looks vastly different out of his uniform and in rough civilian clothes."

"Then," observed Matt, watching through the open side of the tent as a horseman came galloping down the road from the direction of the post trader's, "the military have a double purpose in capturing Siwash Charley."

"They will have," declared Cameron grimly, "as soon as I air my suspicions. For the present, though, keep what I have said to yourself. Ah," he finished, as the horseman drew up beside the tent, "a visitor, Matt, and rather a rough one, at that."

Cameron excused himself, picked up the fateful dagger, and started back toward the post. Matt stepped out to pass a few words with the horseman, while McGlory went to his work on the aëroplane.

"My name's Hackberry," said the horseman, a wiry, ferret-like figure of a man, "an' I got a letter here fer Motor Matt. Which is him?"