“But why?” demanded the girl.
Simon shrugged grimly.
“Probably he saw something he shouldn’t have seen. Probably your Uncle Frank did the same. They won’t tell us.”
The foreman hooked his thumbs in his belt.
“Well, what now?”
It was purely an invitation, but it was curious how inevitable it sounded. Now that a leader was plainly called for, there was not a moment’s question about who it was to be. The leadership was offered and accepted with such unconscious naturalness that perhaps nobody even realised at the time that it had happened at all.
“Somebody’d better take Smoky back to the house,” said the Saint. “Nails, you do it. Jim and Elmer — you stick around here. You might see some more of what Smoky saw, and if it means trouble you can help to look after each other. Jean, you go back with Nails. Hank, you can go with her. Take a car and drive over to Valmon’s. Raise hell. Talk a lot. Demand to see the foreman and the boss and everyone else. Tell ’em about Smoky. Say that you’re sure there’s dirty work going on, and you’re going to know more about it, or else you’re going to shoot up the place or roust out the sheriff or anything else you can think of. I’ll leave the dialogue to you. The one thing is to cause plenty of commotion and make it last as long as possible and keep as many of them occupied as you can.”
“While you’re havin’ a look round?”
“Exactly. The more you can distract their attention, the more I may be able to do. So try and keep ’em bothered without actually letting it go into a free-for-all. But when the time comes — and it’ll probably be my time too — come out shooting.”
“I’ll do that.”