“No!” I reeled back in horror.

To their credit, the puppies and Mr. Javier reeled back in horror too.

“Oh, yes,” Bones said. “I wish I could tell you a different story but I fear I cannot.”

“So then,” I said, “Jefferson Hope was too late?”

Too late! Oh, the tragedy of too late!

“Well, for that, he was,” Bones said. “The man told Jefferson Hope that both the Secretary and, er, John Smith had been part of the large group within the Group that had trailed Jefferson Hope and the Furs into the mountains. He further said that upon returning to the Group with Lucy, there had been quite a fight over who should then get to marry her.”

“My,” I said, “for a man who hasn’t even been given a name, he said an awful lot.”

“Indeed, he did,” Bones said, wholly missing my sarcastic tone. “The man further said that it was the Secretary who had killed Joe Fur and that he thought that – somehow! – this meant he had a greater claim to marry Lucy, but the Leader ended up giving her to, er, John Smith.”

“Gave her?” I did not even know this Lucy Fur, but it galled me to think of men fighting over her in such a way, giving her no choice in where she would go, or whom she would go there with.

“I do realize that empathy has never been my strong suit,” the dog said, showing rare self-insight, “but in this instance, I can empathize wholly. No being or animal should be treated in such a fashion.”

“How did she react to it?” I asked.

“I’m afraid there was no fight left in her. The man told Jefferson Hope that when she was brought back to the Group, she looked close to death. And, in fact, she was dead within thirty days.”

That last thing Bones said was so awful, it hurt me to even write it down. But it is what he said. And, worse was to come.

“As it turned out,” he said, “er, John Smith was not upset by her passing at all. As it turned out, he’d only ever wanted to marry her so he could get his hands on her wealthy father’s property.”

That was what was worse.

After a sad sigh, ever practical, Bones continued on with, “But there is nothing to be done about that now, so let us not dwell upon that part. Let us turn our attention back to Jefferson Hope, who had vowed his revenge.”

Funny, before this day, I’d thought of Jefferson Hope with the same scorn I would give any common villain. Now, I almost pitied the man.

“Over the next months and years, Jefferson Hope made many attempts to exact his revenge – and the Secretary and, er, John Smith made similar attempts to remove him from the picture before he could remove them – but it was all to no avail, on all of their parts. At last, having run near out of money, Jefferson Hope gave up and left, going yet further west to remake his fortune.”

“Only he didn’t give up,” I said.

“That,” Bones said, “he did not.”