“Leaving?” asked Cunningham.
He and Gray had been talking fruitlessly, trying to piece together what they knew of Vladimir with what they had seen of the Strangers, and attempting to figure out the connection between the two. They had decided that the Strangers’ attack upon them had been due to Gray’s rush at one of the hidden figures. That their hiding was due to the fact that they had killed Vladimir’s brother and were afraid of arrest. But they could concoct no theory as to why Vladimir had sought them out, or where he could have known them, or why he was willing to spend any amount of money to have a free hand with them. Certainly they could not understand what he would gain besides revenge, or even how he could set about taking that in a civilized country.
“No, not leaving,” said Gray. He yawned. “You don’t care to confide in me, Cunningham? About your real reason for being here?”
Cunningham grinned. The route he had followed had not misled him. Adventure and romance were certainly about him. He had seen Maria, and she was perfect. And there was promise of more excitement.
“I’ve told you,” he said cheerfully. “I came here for fun. Why not tell me why you came?”
Gray smiled.
“Dialect, of course.” His tone admitted that he did not expect Cunningham to believe it. “I’ll send some wires and be back by noon. Watch your step while I’m gone. I think Vladimir would feel happier with you in jail.”
“I know he would,” said Cunningham. “But there’s something crooked going on. I shall object pretty strenuously to being arrested.”
Gray laughed.
“I think you will,” he admitted. “But today I thought you were just trying to hold the Strangers in talk until the sheriff could reach them unheard. I think they thought the same.”