|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 64
"You were in San Juan?"
"Yes."
"Where was Jim Galloway? Was he in town?"
"No, he wasn't. I don't know where he was. But I do know where he
ought to be. . . ."
"Was that Mexican gent, del Rio, in town?"
Cutter opened his eyes.
"No. I don't think so. You haven't got anything on him, have you?"
"Only what you told me. Remember that his first day in San Juan he
went to Galloway like a homing pigeon."
Norton went for his horse, saddled, and rode swiftly to Las Palmas. In
the mining-camp he went immediately to the office of Nate Kemble, the
superintendent, whom he found cursing volubly.
"It's up to you," were the sharp words of greeting as Kemble wheeled
upon the sheriff. "What the hell do you think you're for, anyway?
Good Lord, man, if you can't cut the mustard, why don't you crawl out
and let a man who _can_ wear your star?"
"Easy there, Kemble," said Norton quietly. "You can do your raring and
pitching after I'm gone. Tell me about it. What time did it happen?"
"It was hardly dark."
"How many men jumped you?"
"Just one. But . . ."
"Just one, eh?" He pondered the information. "That isn't the usual
brand of Galloway work, is it? Get a good slant at him?"
"At his clothes," growled Kemble, slamming himself down dejectedly in
his chair. "His face was hid, of course."
"Ever see a Mexican named del Rio?"
Like Cutter before him, Kemble started.
"Don't ask me what I mean," Norton cut him short. "Del Rio is a pretty
big man for a Mexican; was this highwayman about his size?"
Kemble hesitated.
"It's hard to say just how big a man is when he comes in on you like
that," he said at last. "At a guess I'd say that the man who stuck me
up was a little taller than del Rio. But I wouldn't swear to it."
"It might have been del Rio himself, then?" Norton insisted.
"Yes. Or it might have been the Devil's grandmother. I don't . . ."
"See anything of del Rio the last few days?"
"Saw him yesterday. He was in camp. Was talking mines."
"See anything of Galloway hereabouts of late?"
"No. Haven't seen him for a month or two."
Norton asked a few other questions, kept his own thoughts to himself,
and rode away. Less than a mile from the camp he met Jim Galloway
riding a sweat-wet horse. The two men reined in sharply, each man's
eyes matching the other's for hardness. Galloway's face was red, the
fiery red of anger.
"Going back for what you forgot, Jim?" asked Norton.
For a moment Galloway, staring back at him, seemed utterly speechless
in the grip of his wrath. Norton did not remember ever having seen
such blazing anger in the prominent eyes.
"Between you and me, Rod Norton," muttered Galloway at last, "I have
turned a trick or two in my time. But this job is none of my doing and
if I wise up as to who put it over he'll go under the sand or into the
pen, and I'll put him there."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|