“Yeah.”
“Well, we’ll let Lutcher out on bail till then. I’m curious to hear what Kite will have to say.”
Radabaugh shifted the plug in his cheek. “Think he’ll have anything to say?”
“Don’t you?”
“We-ell, he might.”
“Bring Lutcher up, and we’ll turn him loose.”
Lutcher came. Wint chuckled inwardly at sight of what Radabaugh had called a yellow vest. It was an ornate affair; no doubt of it. He was inclined to expect an outbreak from Lutcher, but the big, bald man was cheerfully amiable. Wint said: “Sorry we had to hold you in jail. The marshal tried to get me, but I’m a sound sleeper.”
“Well, the bed wasn’t soft,” Lutcher admitted. “But I can stand it.”
“I’m going to hold you till to-morrow,” Wint said. “Unless you want to plead guilty and accept sentence now.”
“Guilty? No, sir. You can’t pin anything on me, Wint. You ought to know that.”