“Evidently he doesn’t want to congratulate Carrington about anything,” the clerk confided to a bystander.
Mounting his horse, Taylor rode down the street to the building which Danforth had selected as a place from which to administer the government of Dawes. A gilt sign over the front bore upon it the words:
CITY HALL.
Taylor went inside, and found Danforth seated at a desk. The latter looked sourly at his visitor until he caught a glimpse of his eyes, then his face paled, and he sat silent until Taylor spoke:
“Where’s Carrington?”
“I haven’t seen Carrington this morning,” lied Danforth, for he had seen Carrington some time before, riding out of town toward the Huggins house. He suspected Carrington’s errand was in some way concerned with the three men who had been sent there. But he divined from the expression in Taylor’s eyes that trouble between Taylor and Carrington was imminent, and he would not set Taylor on the other’s trail without first warning Carrington.
He met Taylor’s straight, cold look of disbelief with a vindictive smirk, which grew venomous as Taylor wheeled and walked out. Taylor had not gone far when Danforth called a man to his side, whispered rapidly to him, telling him to hurry. Later the man slipped out of the rear door of the building, mounted a horse, and rode hurriedly down the river trail toward the Huggins house.
Taylor rode to the Eagle office, but Norton was not there, and so, pursuing his quest, Taylor looked into saloons and stores, and various other places. Men who knew him noted his taciturnity—for he spoke little except to greet a friend here and there shortly—and commented upon his abrupt manner.
“What’s up with Taylor?” asked a man who knew him. “Looks sort of riled.”
Taylor found Carrington in none of the places in which he looked. He returned to the Eagle office, and found Norton there. He greeted Norton with a short: