American Gun Mystery by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online

let-up, and with Buck secluded up in Wyoming. …I haven’t been able to visit him for more than a day or so every few months. He’s been a lonely man.”
    “But why,” asked Ellery, “doesn’t he move to California?”
    Kit’s brown little hands tightened. “Oh, I’ve tried to make him. But three years ago he tried a screen comeback and—well, they just don’t come back, it seems, in the movies any more than the prize-fighting game. He took it rather hard and insisted on shutting himself up on his ranch, like a hermit.”
    “And you,” said Ellery softly, “the apple of his eye, to be more than slightly horticultural.”
    “Yes. He has no family or relatives at all. He leads a horribly lonely life. Except for his yellow cook-boy and a few old-timers who punch the small herd he’s got, he’s alone. Really, his only visitors are myself and Mr. Grant.”
    “Ah, the colorful Wild Bill,” murmured Ellery.
    She regarded him rather queerly. “Yes, the colorful Wild Bill. Occasionally he stops over at the ranch to spend a few days between rodeo shows. I have been remiss in my duty to Buck! He’s not been well for years now—nothing really wrong with him. I guess it’s just old age. But he’s been losing weight, and—”
    “Hi, Kit!”
    She flushed, and leaned forward with eagerness. Ellery through half-closed eyes saw Mara Gay’s lips tighten, and her voice faltered the merest trifle as she saw what was happening. The curly head of the glass-ball exterminator was grinning at them from below the rail. Curly Grant had with an easy leap left the saddle, caught the rail, and now hung suspended over the arena. The horse waited philosophically below.
    “Why, Curly,” said Kit, “you’ll—Get down this instant!”
    “And you a lady acrobat,” grinned Curly. “No, ma’am. Kit, I want to explain—”
    Ellery mercifully turned his attention elsewhere.
    There was another diversion. The short military figure of Major Kirby appeared at the entrance to the box by the side of Tony Mars, who now seemed in the ultimate heaven of nervousness. He greeted Curly’s disembodied face with a smile, and bowed with a precise little click of his heels to the ladies, shaking hands quietly with the men.
    “You know young Grant?” asked the Inspector, as the curly head disappeared below the box and Kit sat back with a flushed smile.
    “Yes, indeed,” replied the Major. “He’s one of those fortunate young devils who makes friends everywhere. I met him on the other side.”
    “In service, eh?”
    “Yes. He was attached to my command.” Major Kirby sighed, and smoothed his little black mustache with an immaculate fingernail. “Ah, the War. …A peculiarly rotten brand of delicatessen, if I may say so,” he added. “But Curly—well, he was sixteen, I believe, at the time the great war to end wars called; enlisted under false colors, and very nearly lost his damn fool life at St. Mihiel when he tried to break up a machine-gun nest single-handed. These youngsters were—rash.”
    “But heroes,” said Kit softly.
    The Major shrugged, and Ellery suppressed a smile. It was evident that Major Kirby, who had probably acquitted himself with distinction in the War, had very few illusions about the glories of battle and the privilege of laying down one’s life for the doubtful importance of wresting two yards more of torn earth from the enemy. “I’m in a bigger war right now,” he said grimly. “You don’t know what competition is until you try to score a scoop on some photographic story. I’m in charge of the newsreel unit here tonight, you know. We’ve got an exclusive.”
    “I—” began Ellery with some eagerness.
    “But I must be getting back to my men,” continued Major Kirby evenly. “See you later, Tony.” He bowed again, and quickly left the box.
    “Great little guy,” muttered Tony Mars. “You wouldn’t believe it to look at him, but he’s one of the crack pistol-shots of the U.S. Army. Used to