“Of course,” smiled Taylor; “that’s no way for a sheriff to act. Take them in, Keats,” he added, waving a hand at the prisoners; “it’s been so long since the sheriff of this county arrested a man that the jail’s gettin’ tired, yawning for somebody to get into it.”
He turned his back on Keats and looked straight at Carrington:
“Have you got any ideas along the sheriff’s line?” he asked.
Carrington flushed and his lips went into a sullen pout. He did not speak, merely shaking his head, negatively.
Keats’s glance at Taylor was malignant with hate; and Carrington’s sullen, venomous look was not unnoticed by the crowd. Keats stepped forward and seized the two prisoners, hustling them away, muttering profanely.
And then Taylor was led away by Norton and a committee of citizens, leaving Carrington, the girl and Parsons alone on the platform.
“Looks like we’re going to have trouble lining things up,” remarked Parsons. “Danforth——”
“You shut up!” snapped Carrington. “Danforth’s an ass and so are you!”
CHAPTER VI—A MAN MAKES PLANS
Within an hour after his arrival in Dawes, Carrington was sitting in the big front room of his suite in the Castle Hotel, inspecting the town.