“I hear you and Soapy are figuring on setting off some fireworks this Fourth.”
It did Curly good to see him standing there so easy and deliberate among the excitable town people.
“Soapy is doing the talking.”
“I heard him; happened to be at the Silver Dollar when they dragged him in.”
Maloney’s eyebrows moved the least bit. His friend understood. Together they passed out of the back door of the shop into an alley. The others stood back and let them go. But their eyes did not leave Curly so long as he was in sight. Until this thing was settled one way or the other the young rustler would be one of the most important men in town. Citizens would defer to him that had never noticed him before. He carried with him a touch of the solemnity that is allowed only the dead or the dying.
Back to the hotel the two ran. When Curly buckled on his revolver and felt it resting comfortably against his thigh he felt a good deal better.
“I’ve seen Slats Davis,” Maloney explained. “He has gone to find Luck, who is now at the Del Mar. At least he was an hour ago.”
“Had any talk with Slats?”
“No. He said you’d do the talking.”
“I’m to wait for him on El Molino street to learn where I’m to meet Cullison.”