If they already had Fred Cavendish killed, or held prisoner in their power, it would greatly simplify matters if he should meet death accidentally, or at the hands of parties unknown.
Why not?
Did he not stand alone between them and fortune?
Once his lips were sealed, who else could combat their claims?
No one; not a human being knew his secret--except the little he had confided that afternoon to Stella Donovan.
The thought of the girl served to break his reflections.

This was all a part of that tragedy in New York.

Both were in some way connected together, the assassination in the Waldron apartments, and the shooting of Jose here in this mountain shack.

They seemed far apart, yet they were but steps in the same scheme.
He could not figure it all out, yet no doubt this was true--the struggle for the Cavendish millions had come to include the gold he had discovered here in the hills.

Bill Lacy was merely the agent of those others, of Ned Beaton, of Celeste La Rue, of Patrick Enright.