Raton squinted down at the newspaper picture of Screwloose Pete and Cal Strenk.
“Take your time with it and try to visualize what ten years might have done to Dalcor,” Shayne urged. “A great deal depends on how you answer my question.”
The editor turned the picture to get a better light on it, twisted his head and closed one eye, then the other.
He finally said, “I couldn’t take my oath that either of them is or isn’t Pete. Might be, or mightn’t. If I had to pick one of them for Pete Dalcor, I’d say this one.” He pointed a lean forefinger at Screwloose Pete. “Whiskers and ten years make a sight of difference in a man. I could judge better if they were shaved.”
Shayne was perfectly satisfied. He said, “Everything is shaping up for a showdown. You’re invited to a little seance up at a local hospital this evening. I’m going to attempt to evoke the ghost of Peter Dalcor, and you’ll be my star witness.” He got up, chuckling at the bemused look on Mark Raton’s face. “I’ll see you later, but right now I’ve got to dicker with a couple of men about cutting a melon.”
He strolled out of the lobby and down the street to Jasper Windrow’s large mercantile establishment.
Three clerks were busy waiting on the throng of tourists drawn to the store by the large display of Indian blankets and Western trinkets. Shayne asked for the proprietor and was directed to a small office in the rear partitioned off from a large storage room. The door was open, and Shayne found Jasper Windrow and Cal Strenk inside. Ledgers and account books were strewn over the storekeeper’s desk and he was adding a long list of figures as Shayne walked in. Strenk was slouched in a straight chair tilted back against the wall.
Windrow glanced up, keeping the point of his pencil on his place in the long list. He asked, “What do you want?” in a surly tone.
Shayne said, “If you’re figuring up accounts, you might like to settle up with me at the same time.” He dragged over a three-legged stool and settled his long body on it.
Windrow stared at him from under heavy thatched brows. Cal Strenk cackled and raked the tips of his fingers through his straggly beard. He told Shayne, “The only settlin’ up Jasper likes is when he’s on the takin’-in end.”