As I think back upon that strange series of events in Death Valley, I realize that nothing that anyone of us connected with it could have done would have stopped its sinister progress short of the final tragic act. For we were like spectators trapped in our seats, compelled to witness the play that went on before our unwilling eyes, powerless to intervene, unable to stop the horrid drama.
Incidentally, I believe that up to that time the affair in Death Valley was Huntoon Rogers’ most brilliant case. Had he not been present when it all happened, the thing to this day, I am sure, would have remained an unsolved mystery.
It began late on a November day. Our car topped the crest at Ibex Pass and as if floating headed swiftly down the long grade into a desolate region already purpling with th
