“How soon, Lee?”
The lawyer frowned thoughtfully. He knew he could defer the accounting for a long time, but what good would that do Tex Alden, whose monthly salary was seventy-five dollars.
“Got something in sight, Tex?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Tex studied the toes of his dusty boots. “But yuh never can tell what might turn up.”
“I see.”
Barnhardt relaxed and lighted his pipe. After a few puffs he said—
“I think the Santa Rita pay-roll comes in tonight.”
“Thasso?” Tex stared at Barnhardt. “How do yuh know?”
“Chet Le Moyne rode in a while ago. He always shows up just ahead of the pay-roll and takes it back to the Santa Rita himself.”
Chet Le Moyne was paymaster of the Santa Rita mine, which employed close to three hundred men. The mine was located about twelve miles from Blue Wells. Le Moyne was a handsome sort of a person, dark-haired, dark-eyed, athletic, although slender. Like Tex Alden, he was an inveterate gambler, although not inclined to plunge wildly.