“Averaging fine,” was the answer. “Frank’s up town. Going clear down after all, eh?”
“Probably.”
“Any birds on Yankee Bar?”
“I saw some geese there—hunters stopped in, too. How is the flight?”
“We’re near the tail of it; mostly they’ve all gone down. We’re going to drive for it, and put out our decoys down around Big Island and below.”
“Then I’ll likely see you down there.”
“Sure thing; here’s Frank.”
Terabon shook hands with the two, introduced Carline, and then the hunters cast off and steered away down the stream. They had come more than a thousand 197 miles with the migrating ducks and geese, intercepting them at resting or feeding places. That touch and go impressed Terabon as much as anything he had ever experienced.
He went up town with Carline, who found a cotton broker, a timber merchant, and others who knew him. It was easy to draw a check, have it cashed, and Carline once more had ready money. Nothing would do but they must go around to Palura’s to see Mendova’s great attraction for travellers.
Palura supplied entertainment and excitement for the whole community, and this happened to be one of his nights of special effort. Personally, Palura was in a temper. Captain Dalkard, of the Mendova Police, had been caught between the Citizens’ Committee and Palura’s frequenters. There were 100 citizens in the committee, and Palura’s frequenters were unnamed, but familiar enough in local affairs.