“I reckon that Baldy was shot because he bucked against doin’ any more crooked work. It kinda looks like Baldy wanted to go straight on account of his little kid; but they couldn’t let him get away, ’cause he felt indebted to me for savin’ his kid.”
“You ain’t guessin’ everythin’, are yuh, Brick?” queried Bill Grant anxiously.
“Not all of it. A lot of it is guesswork, Bill; but I’ll bet my life that I’m close to the bull’s-eye. It’s a funny thing—” Brick shifted slightly and a grin passed his lips—“we’ve had several robberies, which never occurred. Baldy Malloy was held up, Ike Welden was held up, and the Silverton bank was robbed.
“The robbers in each case were described as bein’ the same men. And the funny part of it all is the fact that the descriptions cover me, Harp Harris and Silent Slade. Nobody seen ’em except Baldy Malloy, Ike Welden and Meecham. Gents, those robberies never occurred.”
“The they didn’t!” Ike Welden’s voice squeaked like a discordant fiddle. “What in do you know about it?”
“Why—why, that is ridiculous,” faltered Meecham.
“And you better stay where yuh are,” warned Silent, as Meecham moved slightly backward.
“Baldy Malloy’s shack caught fire just before the bank robbery,” continued Brick. “Everybody went to the fire. It sure was a good chance to rob the bank.”
“Just what is all this conversation about?” queried Leach.
He folded his arms and squinted at Brick, trying to cover his nervousness.