"Yer didn't glimpse the critter?"
"No, it was long after dark. I've got my suspicions, but they'll keep.
Seen Bill Lacy this morning?"
The marshal's thin lips smiled grimly as his eyes lifted to Westcott's face.
"He's back there in his office. That's what I stopped yer for. He said he rather expected ye'd be along after awhile. What's up between yer, Jim? Not this Mexican shootin' scrape?"
"Not unless he mentions it, Dan, although I reckon he might be able to guess how it happened. Just now I've got some other things to talk about—he's cutting into my vein."
"The hell he is!"
"Sure; I got proof of it last night. He's running a cross channel. I was down his shaft."
"I heard he's knocked off work; discharged his men."
"Yes, but only to give him time in which to pull off some other deviltry. That gave me opportunity to learn just what was being done. I slipped into the workings after the gang had left, and now I've blocked his game. Say, Dan, what do you know about that Mexican, Mendez?"
"Nuthin' good. I never put eyes on the fellow. Some claim he's got a place where he hides, out thar in the Shoshone desert, but I never got hold of anybody yet as really knew."