“No! A—a—well, that’s fine. I suppose we’ll have to take up a collection to send his body back to Iowa, or to some other ed seaport. By golly, that’s fine! Well—” Soapy cuffed his hat sideways on his head, and bit off a generous chew of tobacco—“that settles all our troubles. You can just set down and let him bring yuh the criminals.
“I wonder whose idea that was? Mebbe all three. By , if their combined brains were turned into dynamite and loaded into a .22 shell, it wouldn’t have power enough to kick the bullet out of a two-inch barrel. Professional detective, ! I’m goin’ to find me a poker game, Brick. I crave action, I do. So-long!”
Brick stood at the hitch-rack and grinned at Soapy, who was bow-legging his way across the street toward the Short Horn saloon. Sam Leach came out of the store, started to turn the other way, but noticed Brick and came over to him.
“You remember we spoke to you about that expert investigator the other day, Davidson?” said Leach.
Brick nodded slowly.
“He will be here almost any day now,” continued Leach. “We told you this in strict confidence, and—well, we want you to keep the information to yourself. His value is gone, if his identity is known.”
“Yeah?” Brick grinned.
“You can see that for yourself, can’t you? He will probably go to work as a cowpuncher.”
“He ought to be worth forty a month,” mused Brick.