“Have you thought that if you were summoned and refused to testify, it would be necessary for the government to supply as best it could the want of your testimony. Have you thought that in doing so, it could not be dainty as to means, and that it would not be impossible in such an event that it might stumble on the story that Cranston tried to sell you to-day?” “In other words, you would become the pedlar of scandal,” sneered Matthewson. “In other words, that justice might not fail, I’d get at the facts, even if they involved my own--brother. Don’t you see, Mr. Matthewson, I’m giving you a chance? If, with a knowledge of all the facts, I can bring this crime home to the murderer without bringing you into it, I’ll do so. If I can’t, I simply know in advance what all the world is bound to know finally. You’ve your chance. You can take it or leave it.” “You’re pressing your advantage. I’m to tell, or you’ll find out. Let me suggest you’ve been on the case some time and the sum of your finding is not large.” “So large, Mr. Matthewson, that I can make my arrest within twenty-four hours and, I’m certain, convict my man.” Matthewson started. There was no mistaking the tone. Still he would not yield. “In that event, you don’t need my answer.” “I must have your answer to shape my proof. You’ll give it to me here or on the witness stand. I’ll leave it to you to decide which.” Matthewson faced him like a man at bay; then, as he saw his unflinching purpose, he yielded and answered: “The papers purport to impugn titles to a million dollars’ worth of land and two millions’ worth of stumpage. They impugn too the honour of the men who hold those titles.” It was Trafford’s turn for surprise. The words took him back to the great scandal of the Public Lands Office, before and while Matthewson was Governor--the one storm that it had seemed for a time even his political resources could not weather. Then came the sudden collapse of the attack and the disappearance of documents that were relied on to support it. He recalled that Judge Parlin had been retained to prosecute the case, and that it was said that papers had been stolen from his office which it had never been possible to replace. “You mean,” he said, “the Range 16 scandal.” “I believe it was so called,” said Matthewson doggedly. “But it was said these papers had been stolen; it was supposed they had been destroyed. How came they in Wing’s hands?” “It is said they were stolen; but if so, not all. Parlin never was able to fill the place of those that were taken; but this man Wing, with devilish ingenuity and persistence, had worked and dug and pieced together until--well, until he had got enough to make us uneasy.” “And so you tried the old game a second time?” “We tried to get them out of his hands. The main thing we hope now is that as the price paid for them this time was murder, the man who got them has destroyed them, for fear their possession would betray him.”