“Saw Ote Runns,” he said. “Figured Ote would nose out any loose booze, so I kind of kept an eye on Ote. He talked to two or three men, and finally to this fellow. They went in behind the billboard by the hotel, and I saw him slip Ote the bottle and take Ote’s money. So I nabbed him.”
“Ote? Get him too?”
“Yes; him and his half pint. I let him keep it. He was pretty shaky. Needed it, I guess.”
Wint nodded. “Be around in the morning?” he asked. “I’ll be down early.”
Radabaugh assented. Wint hesitated, then he said: “Good work, Jim.”
The marshal grinned. “Well,” he told Wint, “from the looks of Rand’s face, you did some good work, too.”
They shook hands. There was a distinctly mutual liking and admiration in their grip. Then Wint started for home, and Radabaugh went back to keep an eye on his prisoners.
One of Rand’s men went to V. R. Kite with the news of the trouble; and Kite, uncertain what to do, sent for Jack Routt and told him what had happened. This was at midnight. “I’ve got to stand by Rand,” Kite said. “The question is, are we ready to get after Wint?”
Routt shook his head. “Time for that. Hold off,” he advised.
Kite asked impatiently: “How long? What makes you think you can get anything on him?”