The room that had been assigned to him was 212.
“Anything you want in particular, Lieutenant?” the clerk asked.
“No-o. Just looking to see who came in to-day.”
He turned away and went up the stairs, ignoring the elevator. On the second floor he found 212. In answer to his knock a voice said “Come in.” Opening the door, he stepped in, closed it behind him, and looked at the man lying in his shirt sleeves on the bed.
“Evening, Cass.”
Fendrick put down his newspaper but did not rise. “Evening, Bucky.”
Their eyes held to each other with the level even gaze of men who recognize a worthy antagonist.
“I’ve come to ask a question or two.”
“Kick them out.”
“First, I would like to know what you paid Luck Cullison for his Del Oro claim.”