“Why should I know that?” I looked him in the eye. “When a job is done East, why, you know yourself they all shoot West—clear to the—”
“You didn’t tell me the last job was done East,” I said, coolly.
“Well, it was. I can say that much. And they’re on their way West—they’re going over the Rockies.”
“Then I guess I’ll declare them out on the job, Jeff. I’m in with some of the other—”
“But that’s no way to use a friend like I’ve been to you! This thing ought to be put up to Ike and ‘Peacock.’ You must remember that I offered you a lay with them! I tried to use you right. You ought to show some gratitude.”
He was fairly whining in his anxiety, but I was mighty careful about showing any eagerness of my own. I scratched my ear and looked rather doubtful and displayed indifference.
“Of course I can’t write to ’em—we never write, especially soon after a job. But I have their bearings, Ross. I can put you right on to their trail. They have a job on below the Potlatch country in Idaho. First East and then West—get the idea? It’s something about land—this operation. You’re bound to bump into ’em; there are not so many men out there as there are here.”
“Still, it looks to me like a wild-goose chase,” I demurred, hoping to be assured that it was no such thing.
“‘Peacock’ isn’t going to change his style! He’s too far away to be obliged to bother—and he sure does like his togs! You can’t hide ‘Peacock’ Pratt if you surround him with a whole county. You’ll find him easy, and my brother will be right on the wheel. Wait! If you don’t know that country I’ll jot down directions and names for you—names of men to ask. I’ll give you a word or two for a passport!” He grabbed paper and pen and began to scribble. “What extra the trip costs will be added to your lay. You’ll find them square if you get in with them,” he assured me while he wrote. “You don’t have to discuss any lay for me. My brother always sees to it that I get my pickings from any job I help him to.”
He fairly thrust the paper into my hands when he had finished. Really, I was more grateful inside than I allowed to appear in my thanks. I could hardly ask Mr. Dawlin to do more in setting me on the trail of the men I was after. The humor of the thing certainly did appeal to me—and I needed a little something for cheer just then.