“You follow me,” said Amos. “I want you to meet a friend of mine.”
“Just a moment,” said Cloudy McGee. “What’s the game?”
“The game,” said Amos nervously, “is to make some easy money for you.”
“Easy money, eh? Say, I don’t believe I know you.”
“I’m all right,” quavered Amos. “I’m cashier of the Lost Hills bank.”
“I see. All right.”
They went to the sidewalk and headed down the street to where Ferdinand P. Putney kept bachelor hall in a little two-room building, just off the street, on the south end of town.
It was a great thrill for Amos, to walk with Cloudy McGee, on whose head was a thousand dollars reward. Cloudy stopped to light a cigarette, and Amos shivered as the match illuminated McGee’s ornate sombrero. Amos was afraid that Jim Potter, the sheriff, might see him.
A man was coming up the street toward them, but Amos did not know who it was. The man watched Amos and Cloudy McGee go in the front door of Ferdinand P. Putney’s home. Against the lamplight it was easy for this man to see the huge sombrero.
The man sneezed several times, cleared his throat raspingly and walked over toward Putney’s front door. It was the man who had stolen the horse in Salt Wells. He had ridden almost to Lost Hills and turned the horse loose, not wishing to be arrested for horse stealing.