“I will. Cross my heart.”
“May I come too?” Kate pleaded.
She was a strongwilled impulsive young woman, and her deference to Curly flattered him; but he shook his head none the less.
“No. You may wait in the parlor downstairs and I’ll send Bob to you with any news. There’s just a chance this may be a man’s job and we want to go to it unhampered.” He turned at the door with his warm smile. “By the way, I’ve got some news I forgot. I know where your father got the money to pay his poker debts. Mr. Jordan of the Cattlemen’s National made him a personal loan. He figured it would not hurt the bank because the three men Luck paid it to would deposit it with the bank again.”
“By George, that’s what we did, too, every last one of us,” his uncle admitted.
“Every little helps,” Kate said; and her little double nod thanked Curly.
The young man stopped a moment after the others had gone. “I’m not going to let Bob get into danger,” he promised.
“I knew you wouldn’t,” was her confident answer.
At the corner of the plaza Curly gave Bob instructions.
“You stay here and keep an eye on everyone that passes. Don’t try to stop anybody. Just size them up.”