Chapter 14 phantom stallion
That summer, because no one was paying for his gun or his wits, Ben Snow had to work as a part-time rancher on Horace Grant's vast farm in West Texas called Six Rods.At that time, Grant was a seriously ill old man in his seventies.He fell from a horse once, and since then, he has been paralyzed in bed, but he still has to agree to hire manpower. On the first morning of working at Six Pole Ranch, Ben was ushered in by Grant's eldest son Terry. The old man's bedroom.
"Don't be nervous, it's just a formality," Terry Grant reassured Ben.Terry was in his forties and was of strong build.Ben supposed he left most of the hard work to his brother. "This is probably the only time you'll see Dad this whole summer."
"Can't you roll him out in a wheelchair?"
Terry Grant shook his head, "It's such a hot day, no. With his current condition, he can't stand it. For him, breathing is already very difficult. That's why we installed the air conditioner, and you will be in his room Like the one they used in the White House after President Garfield was assassinated in 1881."
Ben stepped into the ward bewildered.Outside the house, he could only faintly hear the clicking sound of the machine, which became clearer. When the first gust of cool air rushed towards him, he saw a large iron box the size of a coffin that occupied almost half of the bedroom.That's where the sound and the cold came from, he'd never seen anything like it before.
But his attention was quickly attracted by the person lying on the bed - a white-haired old man asked gruffly, "Are you here to see me or that thing?"
"Papa, this is Ben Snow, and I'd like to hire him to stay with us for a few weeks. He says he's a good horseman."
Horace Grant looked at Ben from under half-lidded eyelids. "Any other pastures around here, Snow?"
"Near here, no," Ben said, "but you won't be disappointed with me." His attention turned to the sunny window, which looked out across the valley.About a mile away, a stunning Italian villa-style building is rising. "It looks like you're building a new farm house over there. There aren't many of that luxury around here."
"My sons built it for me," replied the old man proudly. "It was my dying wish. I always used to promise such a house to their mother. She didn't live to see it." , but now there is, God testifies!"
Terry Grant cleared his throat. "How about it, Dad? Let's let Snow do it for a few weeks, shall we?"
"Of course, of course—seems like a nice guy."
"Thank you, sir," replied Ben respectfully, "you won't regret it."
As they left the bedroom, Terry said, "I told you it was a formality. He never turned anyone down, but we wanted him to feel like he still had a say in matters big and small."
"Being bedridden after an active and fulfilling life must suck."
"We did everything we could to make him comfortable. My wife Laurie brought over three meals a day, and my brother Silas and I installed that air conditioner. It costs a fortune to run that thing, but to keep him comfortable , is also worth it."
"How does this thing work?" Ben asked.
"We bring the ice in from outside the city in a horse-drawn cart. This is the most expensive part. The ice is crushed and mixed with salt to make a salt-ice mixture, which is placed on the top of that iron cabinet, and the melted water drops It flows over the towel filter. A steam-driven generator turns a fan in the bottom of the cabinet. Warm air is drawn in from the outside, passes through the filter and is cooled."
"There should be a way to reduce the fan noise. I'm sure President Garfield's machine isn't so buzzing."
"I think that one was installed in an adjoining room and was cooled by a pipe in the wall," Terry admits, "but we couldn't do that because the kitchen was next door. My father insisted on living in one. a room on the first floor so he could see the work going on at the ranch. And that parlor room was the only room we could turn into a bedroom."
Ben looked at the heavy drapes hanging from the four windows in the main living room. "If you don't mind, I have a suggestion, use some of those fabric curtains to hang between the air conditioner and the bed, from the ceiling to the floor. It will reduce the noise and reduce the cooling area. You can There's a hole in the curtain, and a pipe goes through it."
"What a great suggestion!" said a voice behind Ben.He turned to see a dashing woman in a fringed riding dress standing by the front door. "Who is this bright young man, Terry?"
"Ben Snow, the new helper. Ben, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Laurie. She takes care of the house, and here she does what she says, as I say."
Laurie Grant looked slightly younger than her husband, about thirty-five.She had light blue eyes, and when she took off her hat he saw her blonde hair pulled back in a bun. "It's a pleasure to work here," he told her.
She looked at him for a while, then said to her husband, "Terry, if you can lend me Mr. Snow this afternoon, I think we can put the curtains up before dinner."
"Go ahead," said her husband, waving his hand. "I've got to go up to the north ranch and see and brand the animals. You help my wife, Ben, and I'll show you around tomorrow."
When they were alone, Laurie Grant went to work, taking a curtain-rod from one room, and some heavy brown cloth from another.
"Are you from Texas, Mr. Snow?"
"Please call me Ben. I'm just a hired hand."
She laughed out loud. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just a hired hand too..."
Horace Grant was dozing off when they began to work, and woke up when Ben tapped the nails that held the curtain rods in place. "What—?" he muttered. "It's that bloody horse again!"
Laurie hurried over to reassure him. "No, it's not—we're just going to hang a curtain to make the house quieter. Lange's dead. He's never coming again."
"What's going on?" asked Ben, back in the living room after they had hung the drapes.
"He used to dream of Lange, the stallion that threw him off and wounded him. Teri's brother Silas shot Lange after the accident, but Horace still dreamed of him, Sometimes he fantasizes that it is in the room, jumps up and down, and kicks his bed with his hoof."
"I think it must have had a lot of energy when it was young."
"yes."
"I see them building a house down the valley. At least he has a hope."
Laurie Grant turned away, "Yeah, yeah, it's a long time before it's done. I think he just wanted a house the size of Nathan Lee's house, he's running in the neighboring town Owner of W Ranch. Ever since I married into their family, the two of them have been bitter rivals, and they both want to compare each other. Grant and Lee—seems like another Civil War."
She and Ben walked around outside, explaining to him what some of the houses around the main building were used for.
"Where do I sleep?" he asked.
Laurie glanced at him. "Handhouse. That's the long house over the corral. Take it easy, you'll have a good time here. Take your time."
"I only do what I'm told," he said of her sudden indifference.
She took a step back. "Oh, and Ben — put your gun belt outside the house next time you go in. I don't like having weapons in my house."
He touched his hat politely and left her in silence.
The remainder of the first week was spent working with Terry's younger brother, Silas Grant.He was about Ben's age, in his early thirties, and he was a good rider.If he lacked his brother's family temperament, he made up for it with a natural tenacity.
They spend their days riding horses on the ranch and doing the usual ranch chores like putting up barbed wire and chasing stray animals.By the end of the week, Silas was more talkative and friendlier. "I remember everything about the day Lange threw my dad down," he said, spitting out a mouthful of chewed tobacco, "horrible thing, terrible thing! Lange jumped up and was going to trample him under his hooves .I didn't have time to think about it. Pulled my Colt and shot the beast in the forehead. But it was too late for my father."
"You saved his life."
"If you think that's still alive - paralyzed on the bed, the only thing that keeps him company is the scenery outside the window."
"You've made him comfortable, like cooling down—"
"That was just Terry's bad idea. We spent a lot of money getting ice from town."
Their conversation was interrupted when a tall man was seen riding across the pasture towards them. "Is that one of ours?" Ben asked.
Silas gripped the handle of his gun, as if checking to see if the pistol was on him. "If it's not Nathan Lee, hell! Come on!"
They rode at a gallop, but Ben was a step too slow on his horse, and Silas was ahead of the intruders.When he caught up, Silas was on a horse with a gun in his right hand. "It's a bit far from your home, isn't it, Mr. Lee?"
Nashan Li is a white-haired man in his sixties.His face was weather-beaten, as if he had spent his life on the ranch. "Like you, looking for lost animals. You know my sign, Silas. See any animals?"
"Impossible. We'll send you to the borderline."
"I can find my way back."
Silas motioned to Ben, "Watch Mr. Lee go back to his own territory, Ben. Take the shortest route."
Ben followed Nathan Lee's side silently for about a mile as he was told, when the old man broke the silence, "You're new here, aren't you? I haven't seen you in town."
"Just a temp," Ben explained, "to make some money and tide me over."
"You carry a gun like a gunman."
"No, I'm not," Ben assured him.
"I was wondering if the old guy Grant had a gunman on me."
"Then I don't know. I'm just passing by."
They rode some more distance.On his left, in the distance, he could see the outer wall of the new villa.There didn't seem to be anyone working there today, but when he thought about it, he realized he hadn't seen a single worker all week. "What do you think about Grant's absurdity?" Nashan Li asked, gesturing towards the villa on the other side of the valley.
"Horace Grant is happy with the progress of the project," replied Ben cautiously.
"That idiot will," Li sneered, and replied, "He doesn't even know what's going on under his nose."
Ben sent him to the boundary line—a meandering creek with barbed wire on one side of the bank.On the way back to the ranch house, he decided to take a short detour and get a closer look at the nearly completed villa.As he approached slowly, letting his horse—Oatmeal—slow to a trot, he realized something was wrong.From this angle, the beautiful masonry in front of the house appears to be flat, like a stage set.
And when he got closer, he saw that it was the stage set!
The outer wall, which was supposed to be stone, was a picture painted on burlap, which was then propped up by a wooden frame, with several wooden pillars underneath, inserted into the ground.The whole thing was fake, but viewed from one vantage point, it could have been real—the bedroom window, the only view in Horace Grant's world.
While Ben was still bewildered by his discovery, another man approached on horseback.He saw it was the ranch foreman, Paul Wooster.His eyes were bright and he had a knife scar on his left cheek.Ben hadn't worked with him yet, but they'd known each other through the long nights in the dormitory.
"What are you doing here, Snow, on patrol?"
"Riding with Silas, I met Mr. Lee, who was looking for cattle. I sent him off our property."
"What I'm asking is, what are you doing here?"
"Ride by, take a look. It's a canvas. It's all fake."
"It's none of your business! If you want to keep your job, behave yourself. Mind your own business. It's their family business."
"But Mr. Grant thought—"
"He thought it didn't matter. He wasn't going to live long, and they just wanted to make his last days happy. They put that air conditioner in his room and put him up for a nice set. Forget about you Saw it up close. If Mr. Grant asks, say the place is nearly finished. Understand?"
"Of course," Ben promised, "I'm not here to make trouble..."
Day by day, the weather is getting hotter and hotter.Ben found himself working more and more on the ranch with Paul Wooster and the other hired hands.He saw little of the Grant brothers, never of Laurie Grant.Some nights, in the crowded dormitories of the hired workers, Wooster would think of her as he told stories of his confrontation with the Mexicans on the Rio Grande.
One morning after Ben had been working at Six Pole Ranch for two weeks, Laurie Grant beckoned him to the main house.A truckload of ice had just come in from town, and she needed someone to chip it up and shovel it into the machine in Horace's bedroom. "Do you like working here?" she asked while he was busy with what he was doing.
"It's a good job."
"Silas thinks you're a runaway gunman. He even thinks you might be Billy the Kid."
"Billy the Kid has been dead for over ten years."
"People still hear the rumours."
She helps him refill the machine.She was wearing work pants with her shirttail tucked in.While they worked, Horace Grant snored lightly and fell asleep in bed.
"How's he doing?" Ben asked.
Laurie shrugged. "It's not very good. Last night, he dreamed about the horse again. After waking up, he screamed and said that Lange was in his room and wanted to trample him."
Ben looked at the villa in the distance, "How is the new house built?"
She glanced at him. "You know better than I do. I heard you were there last week."
"I rode by."
After they filled the upper deck of the machine with crushed ice, she said, "The tube that goes through the curtain is loose. Can you tighten the support frame?"
"of course can."
The problem was solved by three times, five times and two times, and it only took a few minutes.He found her in the living room. "It's all fixed. Is there anything else you want me to do?"
She seemed to be considering his words and her own response, "You've been a great help. I'll probably see you again soon."
"At any time."
He walked out of the house to the corral where Terry Grant was training a new horse.So far, Ben hasn't seen his brother do any physical work, but his ability to control the fat stallion is enough to show his strength.Eventually, he came down and handed the horse into the hands of a cowboy.He went to the fence and asked Ben, "Did you help Laurie?"
"It's all done. We filled the air conditioner with crushed ice."
Later that day, after Ben and Terry had checked the fence, Laurie said to them, "Horace said he felt better. He wants to get out in a wheelchair tomorrow."
"It's too hot," Terry replied abruptly, "and it's going to kill him."
"That's what I told him, but he was very serious. And tomorrow, he wants us to take him to see the villa in a carriage."
Terry cursed under his breath, "We'll talk tonight."
After midnight, Ben was awakened by an unusual noise.As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Paul Wooster slipping out of the dormitory and walking briskly across the yard toward the barn.About an hour later, just as Ben was almost falling asleep again, he heard him come back and wondered what the hell he was up to.
The next morning, Ben helped Laurie fill the machine with crushed ice again.About an hour later, while he was working in the stables, he saw Nathan Lee approaching on horseback.The two brothers were nowhere to be seen, so Ben walked over and stopped him, "Can I help you, Mr. Li?"
"I'm here to see Horace. I think your people stole my calf!"
"we do not have--"
"Take me to Horace Grant!" The friendliness of his previous meeting was gone.
"Excuse me, sir."
Lee dismounted and walked to the stables on foot.Ben tied the horse's bridle to a fence and ran to the house.
"What's the matter?" Laurie asked when he saw him walk in the door.
"Nathan Lee came to see Horace - Mr. Grant. He's out in the stables."
"He can't see him. No way. He's resting right now. If I wake him up, he's going outside."
"Okay. I'll tell him."
Lee was not in the stable.It was empty.Ben walked around the corral and found his horse was still inside, but the owner was nowhere to be seen.Then he saw Laurie standing at the door of the rancher's house, waving to him.
"What's the matter?" He ran to her and asked.
"There were noises in his room and he was yelling. He might be dreaming again, but I couldn't open the door. I don't know if it's stuck or something."
Ben walked to the door and tried to turn the handle.It can be twisted, but the door cannot be opened. "Looks like it's locked," Ben said.
"Now I'm worried. Do you think we should break in?"
Ben hesitated. "Where are Silas and your husband?"
"God knows—they might be down the pasture!"
"Stay here," he said decisively, "I'll go around and look out the window."
The sand behind the house was soft, and Ben found himself checking the footprints unconsciously.There were no footprints—just the scratches and paws of a collie.He stood up, looked in through the window, and saw that it was locked from the inside.He looked towards the bed where Horace Grant lay.The quilt only covered half of his body, and his head was twisted at a weird angle.Through the bed, Ben could see the only door locked from the inside.
He smashed the window with the butt of his gun, unlatched it, and lifted high enough for him to crawl through.He had only one look in Horace Grant's face to know he was dead.One side of his head was smashed into a bloody mess, and a bloody horse's hoof print was clearly visible.
Ben drew his .45 again, looked around, and strode toward the curtains hanging around the air conditioner.He pulled the curtain aside, but there was no one behind him.The room was empty except for Ben and the dead man.He went to the door, checked the latch, but found nothing.A small stick was fastened to the nose of the door—it could not have been locked from the outside.He opened the door cautiously, facing Laurie, blocking her view.
"What's going on?" she asked, fear growing on her face.
"He's dead. Someone or something smashed his skull."
"My goodness!"
Ben rubbed his damp fingers, "From the shape of the wound, it might be a horseshoe."
"That phantom stallion he keeps dreaming about? It can't be Lange!"
"You'd better get Silas and your husband."
Only then did she notice the gun in his hand, "What are you doing?"
"Nashan Li is still hanging around somewhere, I need to find him."
"Do you think he killed Horace?"
"Someone killed him anyway."
She looked behind him and saw the bed and the smashed windows. "Langer—"
"Never mind the horse. The door was locked from the inside. Horace was paralyzed in bed, and of course it couldn't have been locked by a dead horse in his dream."
"How was it locked? Also, if the windows were locked, how did the murderer get out?"
"I don't know," said Ben bluntly, "but I'll find out."
He found Lee by the stock pen behind the barn, engrossed in a conversation with Paul Wooster. "You two had better go to the main house," he told them. "Horace Grant has been killed."
"Killed?" Li didn't seem to understand his words for a moment, "What do you mean?"
"Looks like murder."
Wooster pointed the finger at Lee, "You are the only enemy he has around, Mr. Lee. I hate to think of you shooting a paralyzed old man."
"I don't."
"He wasn't shot," Ben explained. "His skull was smacked with a horseshoe. One of those handy weapons around here. Who shoed you, Paul?"
Wooster scratched his head. "If the horses need to be nailed, we usually take them to the city, but some lads can hammer a nail themselves if they need to. I've done it myself."
Walking side by side with the foreman on the way back to the ranch, Ben asked softly, "How long have you been with Lee?"
"Just a few minutes. I saw him skulking around and asked him what he was doing."
"What is he doing?"
"Look who can be poached from here to work at Run W Ranch. Damn, I thought he'd ask me, but he's just beating around the bush and playing sloppy with me."
Ben nodded. "As if he knew Horace Grant was dead."
When Ben and his party arrived at the big house, Terry and Silas Grant also returned.A couple of cowboys are there, and a cook.Terry had taken control of the situation and sent someone on horseback to town to find the sheriff.Silas stood aside, and Ben was surprised to see that he had cried.
"I think we can dismantle the curtain house now," he said with a hint of pain in his tone, "no one can be fooled."
Terry looked at him, "Are you coming after me?"
"Your idea, isn't it?"
"Just to make his last few months a little bit more enjoyable and make him think we're building his dream house."
"How do you know these are his last months? Maybe you convinced him about the Phantom Stallion."
Terry looked as if he was going to punch his younger brother, "He dreamed about the horse! It has nothing to do with me!" Seeing Nashan Li leaving in a hurry, he turned his attention to him, "You trespassed on our place, he said sharply. "And while you were here, my father was killed. Now, you wait here, and when the sheriff arrives, you will be questioned."
Li broke away from him and took his hand, "If I want to kill your father, I have plenty of opportunities--I will kill it with a six-shot gun at the ranch, so I won't sneak in and beat him to death on the hospital bed. Anyway , who would want to kill a man with one foot in the coffin?"
Ben thought it was a good question.He remembered that the old man had tried to get out in a wheelchair.Was anyone afraid that he would discover that the villa in the distance was no more than a stage set?
Sergeant Long arrived, and it turned out to be an elderly man with a tired face. "I knew all about Horace Grant," he said sadly, "and I was sorry to see him die like this."
He heard details of the scene, and Ben's account of the broken window.
"What do you think, Sheriff?" Terry Grant asked him.
"Accidental, I think. Hell, maybe that damned horse killed him."
Terry was dumbfounded, "In a secret room?"
"I wondered if the horse had thrown him off and his head had been trampled on, and the wound didn't show until after he died."
Even Silas couldn't accept the explanation. "I'd rather believe in ghost horses than this."
"What about Nathan Lee?" Terry reasoned. "He hates my father, and the whole country knows it. Today, he trespassed on our territory, and—"
"I'll question him," agreed the sheriff.He took Li to the restaurant and sat down with him.Couldn't hear them talking, but Ben already guessed from his demeanor that he didn't want to offend another big landowner in the district.
Ben goes out to the corral as Terry and Laurie prepare for the funeral.No one asked him to help with the investigation, they didn't need him.Maybe it's time to consider going on a trip.
That night, there were complaints in the employee dormitory.People are worried that the salary will not come out.They feared a power struggle between Terry and Silas, and they talked about Nathan Lee's hiring proposals for some of them.Some thought about jumping ship to run W Ranch, but when Paul Wooster stepped into the room, the talk of job-hopping stopped abruptly.The foreman seemed so worried about the day's affairs that he didn't say a word, but when Ben routinely asked him about the next day's work, he gave an answer without hesitation.
"It's all business as usual, Ben, and you can rest assured. The funeral is two days away and we'll all be there, of course, but if not, we'll be doing our jobs on the farm."
"What about the job that Lee offered?"
"Let Li go to hell!"
That night, after twelve o'clock, Worcester again left the workers' quarters.This time, Ben quietly put on his trousers and boots, and followed the foreman through the corral to the barn by starlight.He did not carry a gun and hoped he would not regret it.But as soon as he slipped into the barn after Wooster, he knew he didn't need a weapon.He heard Laurie's soft voice say, "I don't know if you'll come tonight."
"Why? Because the old man was killed? It's more like a euthanasia the way he is. Not worth the grief."
"After the sheriff left, Terry and Silas fought again."
"Don't worry, your husband knows how to deal with his little brother."
"my husband--"
"He is your husband. You will not leave him."
"No." She admitted frankly.
"come on."
In the gloom, Ben saw their figures melt together.Afterwards he slipped outside through the ajar door, which, thanks to the clear sky, led him back to the workers' quarters.
The next morning, Silas Grant came to the hired dormitory at breakfast and asked Worcester to tear down the set villa. "Do it today," he ordered, "I don't want to see it again."
"Okay," said the foreman.
Silas walked towards his horse, and Ben caught up with him. "Do you still need me?" he asked.
"Of course. Why not? My brother hired you, not my father." He rolled onto his horse and rode toward the group of cowboys who were waiting for him.
Ben stayed in the hired dormitory, thinking that Wooster might need his help tearing down the set, but in the end Laurie came to him instead. "We don't need that air conditioner anymore," she said, "Can you empty it for me?"
The fan blades had been turned off, and for the first time since Ben had come to work the huge machine was quiet.The compartment containing the crushed ice was like a coffin. He opened the lid and found something by accident.
It was a stick, with a bloodstained horseshoe fastened loosely at one end. "What's that?" Laurie asked.
"If I'm not mistaken, it's the murder weapon."
Laurie put a hand over his mouth and gasped.
Ben picked it up cautiously. "This is your phantom stallion, just like I thought it would be."
"Of course," said Laurie, "after Horace was killed, the murderer hid in the upper part of this box, which is the crushed ice. There's enough space for a man. When we went to call, he slipped out. , maybe from the front door, maybe from your open window."
Ben glanced at the shattered window and the soft ground below, but Sheriff Long and the two brothers had been there before, and the ground was trampled and there were too many footprints to find a clue. "He's been in this room with us," Ben muttered. "We let him escape."
"But who is it?"
"Woster told me he occasionally shoed horses too. He was with Lee when I found him, but he said they were only there for a few minutes. So neither of them had an alibi It's gone." When the foreman's name was mentioned, he stared into her face, but she didn't respond.
"What are you going to do?" she said. "Report it to the Sheriff?"
"First I want to talk to Worcester again." Ben knew that whatever he discovered this time might jeopardize his job at the ranch, but he left the house anyway and rode oats across the valley toward the set. Run in the direction of the villa.He could see workers busy there, and presumed the foreman was among them.When approaching there, he dismounted, walked over on foot with a gun in one hand, and approached, the villa painted on the curtain looked lifeless, unreal, and could not fool anyone.But the sons knew it was impossible for their father to get up close and watch.
"Worcester!" he cried, "are you there?"
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew a large piece of the curtain loose, as if by an invisible hand, and Paul Wooster's tall gray horse sprang out and galloped straight at Ben.He had no choice but to fly to the side, avoiding the trampling of the horse's hooves.
"Are you all right?" Wooster shouted seeing this scene.
Ben stood up, brushed the dust off his clothes, "I can't die."
Wooster whistled and called back to his horse, "I'm sorry. We're taking the screen off these poles, and there's not enough space for the screen. The runners broke away from me as the screen came loose. I'm having him help me reach the high place and pull the nails out of it."
"There's not enough room," repeated Ben.
"Yes. Are you sure you're all right, Snow?"
"I'm fine."
"Then give me a hand. I need your help."
But Ben paid no attention to it and walked towards his horse.He has to do something.Wooster yelled after him, but he rode off to the ranch on the oats.
Laurie was coming out of the kitchen as soon as he entered.Before he could speak, his expression told her that he knew the truth. "Why did you kill the old man, Mrs. Grant?"
She stared at him without blinking, her hands busy nervously, "How could I kill him? The door was locked from the inside. The murderer was hiding in the air conditioner."
"No, I just filled it with crushed ice about an hour ago. There's not enough room in there to hide a person."
"The door is locked from the inside," she reiterated.
"That's the easiest little trick in the world. After you beat him to death with that horseshoe, you hide that stick in the air conditioner, and take out a little piece of ice. When you close the door, put the ice on the latch. A In two minutes the ice will melt and the latch will drop, locking the door from the inside."
Her face was ashen, "Even so, anyone can do it. Why me?"
"First of all, because it wouldn't make sense for anyone other than the murderer to lock that door. The idea of killing someone with a horseshoe is to give the case a supernatural air, to tie the murder to the Horror that everyone's heard of. But the act of locking the door destroys the effect. Neither the paralyzed old man nor the ghost horse can lock the door, so why lock the door? Pull the door from the inside Who benefits when it is locked? Only you, Mrs. Grant, because you are on the other side of the door. If the door is unlocked, you have the best chance of killing Horace Grant. And the others - your husband, Your uncle, your foreman, not even Nathan Lee—wouldn't have locked the door."
"What if the murderer heard me coming after committing the crime, and locked the door to prevent me from coming in? Have you ever thought about this possibility?"
"Think about it," Ben said with a hint of sadness in his voice. "If that's the case, when you left the house to call me, the murderer should have taken the opportunity to escape. He couldn't lock himself up with the victim."
"I—" she stammered, unable to speak.She is at a loss for words.
"Why did you kill him?" he asked again. "Because of Paul Wooster, wasn't it?"
"You knew already?"
Ben nodded.
She sighed, "One day I was in Horace's room talking to Paul like I was talking to you. I thought the old guy was asleep. But he heard it and threatened to tell Ty Ray. This is going to ruin our marriage. I can't risk it just to spend hours with a sweaty stockman. I feel like I'm doing the old guy a favor, anyway, He wants to die."
"Not in this way, he didn't want to die like that," Ben assured her, "Putting a pillow on his face might be euthanasia, but not with a horseshoe on a stick." never mind."
There was a hint of slyness in the light blue eyes, "I think maybe that would transfer the suspicion to the cowboy."
"Your lover, Paul Wooster, for example? He would have nailed the horseshoes tighter. The murder weapon shows that the murderer was no good at horseshoes."
Neither of them noticed that Terry Grant entered the house while they were talking.At this time, he came over and saw him finish the final blow to his wife.She broke down, leaning on his shoulder, sobbing.
"I'll take care of it," he said to Ben. "Pack up your things and go. I'll pay you next week."
"Shouldn't it be reported to the Sheriff?"
"I'll take care of it."
Within an hour, Ben was off the ranch with his wages, heading north.
He never saw any of them again, except that the following spring, in a bar in Durango, he was told about the shooting at Six Pole Ranch, where Terry Grant shot his wife and the foreman, and it ended. took his own life.
Notes:
Notes: