“We’re sure obliged to yuh, Miss Luck,” said Duke slowly. “We’ll get out of here before they find yuh out.”
Came a dull knock on the heavy door. Duke drew his gun and stepped in closer to the wall, snuffing out one of the candles.
“I’ll open it,” he whispered, but Luck motioned him to stop.
“Who is it?” she called.
“Me—Mica Cates,” answered a muffled voice. “You paw asked me to find out if yuh was home.”
“I’m all right,” said Luck.
“I’ll tell him. They ain’t found them fellers yet, Luck; but they’re still huntin’. Your dad is willin’ to pay big for the man what gets ’em. Loper’s dead. Mendez and Fane are kinda bad, but mebbe they’ll live.”
For a moment there was silence, and then Cates said, “’Member what I said about them buzzards? It sure is hard to fool a buzzard. G’d-night.”
Luck turned to Duke, her face white in the flickering light of the one candle.