“You'll have to get out of my way, friend” the stranger informed him.
“Not if I know it, old-timer” replied Bob. “I'm first in line, with orders to stick here and maintain my position at all hazards. I'll share the suit-case with you, but you mustn't try to crush in in advance of me.”
The stranger eyed him curiously. “I'm an employee of the state land office” he said coolly. “Please permit me to get into the office.”
Bob looked at his watch. It was just eight o'clock, and he knew that the land office did not open until nine. He wondered who this industrious individual might be and what reason he had for getting down to work an hour beforehand; and then; like a bolt from the blue, The Big Idea flashed into Bob McGraw's brain.
He yawned sleepily. “Great snakes!” he said, “I've been waiting here an hour for you. I beg your pardon, old-timer. I didn't recognize you at first, although I should have known you right off by that little mole on your left cheek.”
He scrambled to his feet and picked up his suit-case, while the stranger looked at him sharply.
“Why are you here so early?” he demanded. Bob McGraw would have liked to ask him the same question but he refrained.
“There's been an inquisitive stranger investigating the old man and—well, you know what a fox Carey is? At the last moment it didn't seem wise to come through on the original programme, so I came up instead. I'm used to taking chances and I'm going to be well paid for this.”
Was it fancy, or did Bob really detect a more friendly light in the man's eyes? He decided that he had not overplayed his hand, so, fearful that he might, he remained discreetly silent and waited for the door to be opened. The stranger inserted the key in the lock and stepped into the room. Bob followed him uninvited, turned carefully and sprung the lock on the door. The deputy (for such Bob guessed him to be) passed through a gate in the counter and on into an inner office. He returned a moment later, pulling on his office coat. At the counter he paused and faced Bob. There was still a suspicious look in his alert intelligent eyes.
Bob drew the fifty applications from his suit-case and passed them over the counter. “Hurry with them” he said. “There isn't any time to lose. Did Carey tell you anything about that fellow McGraw, who filed on the Cottonwood lake water?”