The Sweep Winner Part 32

"Get along with it then," growled Bellshaw, "but I a.s.sure you beforehand you are wasting your time."

"Oh no, I am not. You'll say so when I've done. You'll consider it rather a clever move on my part and that the time was very well occupied. It's about a woman," blurted out Glen suddenly.

Craig Bellshaw felt as though an electric current had pa.s.sed through him. The remark was so unexpected, meant so many things, and he was utterly in the dark. He stared at Glen, who still smiled as he said, "I thought you'd be surprised. Do you know what became of the young woman you took away from Mintaro and left in the open to die?"

"You're raving. There never was a young woman at Mintaro," said Bellshaw hoa.r.s.ely.

"Oh yes, there was. You drove her away in your buggy, emptied her out, and left her insensible while you drove away. You told me about it the night you walked in your sleep; at least all you knew. You acted well, very well indeed. You ill.u.s.trated in a remarkably clear way how you attempted to throttle her. You also showed me how you were dragging her to some water hole, but thought better of it, and left her to die of hunger. I heard you speak to your horses so knew you must have taken her there in a buggy. It's a bad plan to walk in your sleep when you've a murder on your conscience," said Glen.

Bellshaw glared at him like a caged tiger.

"Murder," he hissed. "Be careful what you say."

Glen took no notice of his remark.

"Do you know what became of the woman?" he asked.

"There was no woman."

"Don't deny facts. It's a waste of breath. Doesn't Backham know there was a woman at Mintaro? Don't all your hands know?"

Bellshaw was silent. Glen was rubbing it in strong.

"There's awful evidence against you to prove she was at your place.

We'll take that for granted; we'll also take it for granted you left her in the wilderness to die--you brute," said Glen, who could hardly restrain his feelings.

Bellshaw writhed, but did not speak. He waited to hear more.

"Do you know what became of the woman?"

"I tell you there was no woman."

"There's ample proof that you lie," answered Glen, "so I'll pa.s.s that. I found her in my hut when I rode back from the fence."

He gave Bellshaw a graphic account of what happened and how Jim Benny came to a.s.sist him.

Then he looked hard at Bellshaw as he placed his hands on the table and stood up, leaning over until his face was within a few inches of the squatter's.

"She died in my hut," said Glen. "You are her murderer; you can't get away from that."

Bellshaw s.h.i.+vered. He believed what Glen Leigh said. It was not true, but there was every justification for making the statement to punish him.

"She confessed how she came there and everything you had done to her before she died," went on Leigh. "Jim Benny knows it; Bill Bigs knows it; they were there. The evidence is strong enough, if not to hang you, to send you to penal servitude for life."

Bellshaw tried to laugh, but was thoroughly frightened. He had often wondered what had become of the woman. The story sounded probable. She might have wandered as far as Leigh's hut. During the few minutes'

respite Bellshaw thought of a way to retaliate.

"You shot Joe Calder," he said.

Glen being innocent, laughed. Bellshaw must have been dull if he did not see his shot had not gone home.

"I did not. I shouldn't wonder if you had a hand in it," retorted Glen.

"He was a friend of mine."

"You'd as soon leave a shot in a friend as an enemy if he was in your way," said Glen.

"Why have you told me this silly story?"

"In the first place because I want to bring home to you that if Jim Benny, Bill Bigs and myself bring a charge against you of causing the death of this woman, you'll be in the hands of the police instead of witnessing the Melbourne Cup. In the second place if you scratch Barellan you will have no mercy shown you. We shall act at once,"

replied Glen.

Bellshaw saw the drift of it all. He was cornered. It was a clever move.

He would have to run the horse. The evidence of three men who saw the woman die, and heard her charge against him, would be serious--too serious for him to face in public. Even if he escaped punishment he would be branded with infamy for life.

"You'll not scratch Barellan?" said Glen.

"I shall if I get no sweep money from you."

"I say you will not scratch the horse," Glen repeated.

"Supposing I do."

"Then you will be taken into custody at once on the charge I mentioned."

"And if I run him?"

"You shall be free to do what you will. Your conscience will punish you; it has done already. I saw that at Mintaro. You were afraid--a coward,"

said Glen.

"You will stand me a thousand out of the sweep?"

"Not a farthing."

Bellshaw would like to have shot him.

"What guarantee have I that you will be silent?" he asked.

"I give you my word," returned Glen.

"That is nothing to me."

"But it is to me, and you will have to accept it."

"I will not."

"You will run Barellan?"