Pete sat up suddenly. "I was forgittin' I was broke," and he turned to Owen.
"No. There's sixty-seven dollars and two-bits of yours over at the station, along with your gun and a bundle of range clothes."
"I forgot that."
"Feel better?"
"Fine—when I'm settin' still."
"Well, we're here. Go right in. I'll wait."
Pete entered the bank and inquired for the president, giving the attendant his name in lieu of the card for which he was asked. He was shown in almost immediately, and a man somewhat of The Spider's type assured him that he was the president and, as he spoke, handed Pete a slip of paper such as Pete had never before seen.
"You're Peter Annersley?" queried Hodges.
"Yes. What's this here?"
"It's more money than I'd want to carry with me on the street," said Hodges. "Have you anything that might identify you?"