“Ask me an easier one,” answered Ballard. “It isn’t like him to skip out without telling us what he’s up to.”
Clancy had an idea.
“I’ll bet a plugged nickel against a chink wash ticket,” said he, “that Chip’s absence has something to do with Lenning.”
“What has it to do with Lenning?”
“I’ve dug up that much, Pink, and it’s up to you to think out the rest. I’ve started something, now you finish it.”
“If I tried to finish everything you started,” snorted Ballard, “I’d have my hands full. But I guess I can fill in the gaps of this particular proposition, all right.”
“Well, what’s the answer?”
“Chip has gone out to the mine to bolster up Lenning’s good resolutions. That would be like him, wouldn’t it? Just remember, please, that we interrupted a confab Chip and Lenning were having when we came in from the gulch. More than likely Chip has gone to the cyanide plant to wind up that conversation.”
“You’ve hit it, old man,” beamed Clancy. “I know as much as anybody, if I could only think of it, but that gilt-edged theory certainly got past me. Look here, Pink. Suppose we take a stroll out toward the mine, meet Chip, and escort him back to the hotel?”
“You’re on! But if Chip doesn’t happen to be at the mine——”