“No, we don’t. But we’ve a notion Fendrick knows.” Bucky gave the government appointee his most blandishing smile. “Of course we know you won’t talk about this, Mr. Thomas. Can we depend on your deputies?”
“I’ll speak to them.”
“We’re much obliged to you. This clears up a point that was in doubt to us. By the way, what was the date when the relinquishment was signed?”
“To-day.”
“And who was the notary that witnessed it?”
“Dominguez. He’s a partner of Fendrick in the sheep business.”
“Quite a family affair, isn’t it. Well, I’ll let you know how things come out, Mr. Thomas. You’ll be interested to know. Have a cigar.”
Bucky rose. “See you later, Curly. Sorry I have to hurry, Mr. Thomas, but I’ve thought of something I’ll have to do right away.”
Bucky followed El Molino Street to the old plaza and cut across it to the Hotel Wayland. After a sharp scrutiny of the lobby and a nod of recognition to an acquaintance he sauntered to the desk and looked over the register. There, among the arrivals of the day, was the entry he had hoped to see.
Cass Fendrick, C. F. Ranch, Arizona.