music box was jangling, and the town showed n o signs of going to sleep. Studying that stairway, I liked no par t of it. Booker had many friends here, but I had none, an d going up there would be a risk. Then I remembered all th e other times I'd had no friends, so I hitched my guns easier o n my thighs and went across the street. *
Going up the steps two at a time, I paused at the door.
Locks were no problem to a man of my experience, and a minute later I was inside a dark office, musty with stal e tobacco. Swiftly, I checked the tray on the desk, the to p drawer, and then the side drawers, lighting my exploratio n with a stump of candle. Every sense alert, ears attuned to th e slightest sound, I worked rapidly, suddenly coming to a n assayer's report. No location was mentioned and no notatio n was on the sheet, but the ore had been rich, amazingly rich.
Then among some older papers at the bottom of a drawer I f ound a fragment of a letter from Morgan Park, signed wit h his name.
You have been recommended to me as a man o f discretion who could turn over a piece of property for a quick profit and who could handle negotiations with a buyer. I am writing for an appointment and will be i n Silver Reef on the 12th. It is essential that this busines s remain absolutely confidential.
It was little enough, but a hint. I left the assayer's repor t but pocketed the letter. The long ride had tired me, for m y wounds, while much improved, had robbed me of strength.
Dousing the candle, I returned it to its shelf. And then I h eard a low mutter of voices and steps on the stair!
Backing swiftly, I glanced around and saw a closed doo r that must lead to an inner room. Stepping through it I close d it just in time. It was a rosin used for storage. Voices sounde d and a door closed. A match scratched, and light showe d under the door. "Nonsense! Probably got in some drunke n brawl! You're too suspicious, Morgan."
"Maybe, but the man worries me. He rides too much , and he may get to nosing around and finding something."
"Did you see Lyell before he died?"
"No. He shot first, though. Some fool saw him take a bead on somebody. This other fellow followed it up and kille d him."
The crabbed voice of Booker interrupted. "Forget him.
Forget Sabre. My men are lined up, and they have the col d cash ready to put on the line! We haven't any time for child' s play! I've done my part, and now it's up to you! Get Sabr e out of the way and get rid of Maclaren!"
"That's not so easy," Park objected stubbornly. -Maclare n is never alone, and if anybody ever shot at him he'd turn th e country upside down to find the man. And after he is killed , the minute we step in suspicion will be diverted to us."
"Nonsense!" Booker replied irritably. "Nobody know s we've had dealings. They'll have to settle the estate, and I'l l step in as the representative of the buyers. Of course, if yo u were married to the girl it would simplify things. What's th e matter? Sabre cutting in there, too?"
"Shut up!" Park's voice was ugly. "If you ever say a thin g like that again, I'll wring you out like a dirty towel, Booker. I m ean it.-
"You do your part," Booker said, "and I'll do mine. Th e buyers have the money and they are ready. They won't wai t forever."
A chair scraped, and Park's heavy step went to the doo r and out. There was a faint squeak of a cork twisting in a bottl e neck and the gurgle of a poured drink. Then the bottle an d glass were returned to the shelf. The light vanished and a door closed. Then footsteps grated on the gravel below. Onl y a minute behind him, I hurried from the vicinity. Then I p aused, sweating despite the cool air. Thinking of what I' d heard, I retrieved my horse and slipped quietly out of town.
Bedded down among the clustering cedars, I thought of tha t and then of Olga, the daughter of Maclaren, of her soft lips , the warmth of her arms, the quick, proud lift of her chin.
Coming home to Cottonwood Wash and the Two Ba r with
Going up the steps two at a time, I paused at the door.
Locks were no problem to a man of my experience, and a minute later I was inside a dark office, musty with stal e tobacco. Swiftly, I checked the tray on the desk, the to p drawer, and then the side drawers, lighting my exploratio n with a stump of candle. Every sense alert, ears attuned to th e slightest sound, I worked rapidly, suddenly coming to a n assayer's report. No location was mentioned and no notatio n was on the sheet, but the ore had been rich, amazingly rich.
Then among some older papers at the bottom of a drawer I f ound a fragment of a letter from Morgan Park, signed wit h his name.
You have been recommended to me as a man o f discretion who could turn over a piece of property for a quick profit and who could handle negotiations with a buyer. I am writing for an appointment and will be i n Silver Reef on the 12th. It is essential that this busines s remain absolutely confidential.
It was little enough, but a hint. I left the assayer's repor t but pocketed the letter. The long ride had tired me, for m y wounds, while much improved, had robbed me of strength.
Dousing the candle, I returned it to its shelf. And then I h eard a low mutter of voices and steps on the stair!
Backing swiftly, I glanced around and saw a closed doo r that must lead to an inner room. Stepping through it I close d it just in time. It was a rosin used for storage. Voices sounde d and a door closed. A match scratched, and light showe d under the door. "Nonsense! Probably got in some drunke n brawl! You're too suspicious, Morgan."
"Maybe, but the man worries me. He rides too much , and he may get to nosing around and finding something."
"Did you see Lyell before he died?"
"No. He shot first, though. Some fool saw him take a bead on somebody. This other fellow followed it up and kille d him."
The crabbed voice of Booker interrupted. "Forget him.
Forget Sabre. My men are lined up, and they have the col d cash ready to put on the line! We haven't any time for child' s play! I've done my part, and now it's up to you! Get Sabr e out of the way and get rid of Maclaren!"
"That's not so easy," Park objected stubbornly. -Maclare n is never alone, and if anybody ever shot at him he'd turn th e country upside down to find the man. And after he is killed , the minute we step in suspicion will be diverted to us."
"Nonsense!" Booker replied irritably. "Nobody know s we've had dealings. They'll have to settle the estate, and I'l l step in as the representative of the buyers. Of course, if yo u were married to the girl it would simplify things. What's th e matter? Sabre cutting in there, too?"
"Shut up!" Park's voice was ugly. "If you ever say a thin g like that again, I'll wring you out like a dirty towel, Booker. I m ean it.-
"You do your part," Booker said, "and I'll do mine. Th e buyers have the money and they are ready. They won't wai t forever."
A chair scraped, and Park's heavy step went to the doo r and out. There was a faint squeak of a cork twisting in a bottl e neck and the gurgle of a poured drink. Then the bottle an d glass were returned to the shelf. The light vanished and a door closed. Then footsteps grated on the gravel below. Onl y a minute behind him, I hurried from the vicinity. Then I p aused, sweating despite the cool air. Thinking of what I' d heard, I retrieved my horse and slipped quietly out of town.
Bedded down among the clustering cedars, I thought of tha t and then of Olga, the daughter of Maclaren, of her soft lips , the warmth of her arms, the quick, proud lift of her chin.
Coming home to Cottonwood Wash and the Two Ba r with
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