"What you want me to do," said the sheriff, with slow effort, "is to set a trap, get Hollis into it, and then—murder him?"
"A brutal way of putting it, my dear fellow."
"A true way," said the sheriff.
But he was thinking, and Waters waited.
When he spoke, his voice was soft enough to blend with the sheriff's thoughts without actually interrupting them.
"You're not a youngster any more, sheriff, and if you lose out here, your reputation is gone for good. You'll not have the time to rebuild it. Here is a chance for you not only to stop the evil rumors, but to fortify your past record with a new bit of work that will make people talk of you. They don't really care how you do it. They won't split hairs about method. They want Hollis put out of the way. I say, cache yourself away. Let Hollis come to meet Larrimer in a private room. You can arrange it with Larrimer yourself later on. You shoot from concealment the moment Hollis shows his face. It can be said that Larrimer did the shooting, and beat Hollis to the draw. The glory of it will bribe Larrimer."
The sheriff shook his head. Waters leaned forward.
"My friend," he said. "I represent in this matter a wealthy man to whom the removal of Terry Hollis will be worth money. Five thousand dollars cash, sheriff!"
The sheriff moistened his lips and his eyes grew wild. He had lived long and worked hard and saved little. Yet he shook his head.
"Ten thousand dollars," whispered Waters. "Cash!"