"Sure, his deputy—Lawrence—a man we can get hands down."
Bostwick stared at him hopefully.
"You don't mean to say this accident—this crime—is fortunate, after all?"
"It's a godsend." McCoppet would have dared any blasphemy.
Bostwick's relief was inordinate.
"Then what is the next thing to do?"
"Wait for Lawrence," said the gambler. Then he suddenly arose. "No, we can't afford the time. He might be a week in coming. You'll have to go get him, to-morrow."
"Where is he, then?"
"Way out South, on a survey. You'd better take that car of yours, with a couple of men I'll send along, and fetch him back mighty pronto. We can't let a deal like this look raw. The sooner he runs that reservation line the better things will appear."
Bostwick, too, had risen.