That was a morning which flashed by quickly. The gleeful history of events in Vesper was told once and again, with Pete's estimate and critical analysis of the Vesperian world. Stanley's new fortunes were announced, and Pete spoke privately with him concerning McClintock. The coming campaign was planned in detail, over another imported meal. Stanley was to be released that afternoon, Benavides becoming security for him; but, through the courtesy of the sheriff, he was to keep his cell until late bedtime. It was wished to make the start without courting observation. For the same reason, when the sheriff escorted Stanley and Benavides to the courthouse for the formalities attendant to the bail-giving, Pete did not go along. Instead, he took Frank-Francis for a sight-seeing stroll about the town.
It was past two when, in an unquiet street, Boland's eye fell upon a signboard which drew his eye:
THE PALMILLA
THE ONLY SECOND-CLASS SALOON IN THE CITY
Boland called attention to this surprising proclamation.
"Yes," said Pete; "that's Rhiny Archer's place. Little old
Irishman—sharp as a steel trap. You'll like him. Let's go in."
They marched in. The barroom was deserted; Tucson was hardly awakened from siesta as yet. From the open door of a side room came a murmur of voices.
"Where's Rhiny?" demanded Pete of the bartender.
"Rhiny don't own the place now. Sold out and gone."
"Shucks!" said Pete. "That's too bad. Where'd he go?"