“I ain’t tellin’ that!” Pop shook his head.
“Reckon I better have a look aroun’,” the marshal said as he swung around and headed toward the door. Then, as an afterthought, he called back over his shoulder: “I’m darn glad yuh got the money.”
Pop Howes had another drink, then wandered across the street to the Ace High. Here he found Hard-rock Hogan and confided his good news to him in a whisper which was clearly audible to several men standing near. By the time Pop had had another two drinks and had repeated the story several more times, always in confidence, he began to believe it himself and gave it a real ring of truth.
Jim-twin Allen followed him about and watched him. Several times he chuckled to himself.
“Darn me, if Pop ain’t turnin’ into a real fancy liar!”
Presently Allen wandered out and started a search of the various saloons. He found the man he sought playing stud poker in the back room of the Red Blood Saloon at the far edge of town. Allen whispered to him and went out again; he walked out of town a short distance, seated himself on a rock, and started whistling.
“Slivers” Hart, the young card player, waited several minutes and then cashed in his chips and left the bar. He was very slender and but a few inches taller than Allen. He had straw-colored hair and laughing, reckless eyes, but his mouth was hard and bitter.
“Hello, Slivers! I want yuh to do me a favor,” Allen greeted him a few moments later.
“Yuh saved me from wearin’ a necktie once, so shoot,” the other said quietly.
“’Tain’t much. I want yuh to go to the other end of the town an’ sorta watch an’ see if any one leaves in a hurry,” directed Allen. “Then, if some one comes a-runnin’ back, an’ if he’s a plumb important person, sorta foller him an’ see where he goes.”