young fellow with a pale complexion. Lance approached the cage. “You’re Elmer Manley, I take it. Sheriff Lockwood was telling me about you——”
“I’m Manley, Deputy Tolliver.” The young fellow smiled. “I hope you or the sheriff aren’t after me for anything?”
“Not at all.” Lance laughed. “I’m talking to as many folks as possible, trying to get an idea from which direction the shot was fired that killed George Kilby. Did you happen to be on the street when that happened?”
Manley nodded. “It sounded to me as though it came from the direction of the hotel. Of course, I couldn’t be certain. I’m not supposed to leave my cage here at all but I did dash out to take a look for just a second. Just as I reached the doorway I heard the shot. I really haven’t much idea of what happened, except what I’ve gathered from others…. You don’t remember me, do you, Mr Tolliver?”
“Should I?” Lance scrutinized the man more closely. There was something vaguely familiar about Manley’s features.
“Think back about five years,” Manley suggested. “The Dankerker counterfeiting case in St Louis——”
“Sure enough,” Lance exclaimed, his brow clearing. “You were a witness for the prosecution. You helped us convict——” He paused suddenly. If this man knew him…
“Trust me, Mr Tolliver,” Manley said. “I’ve an idea what brought you here and what brought Frank Bowman here. I haven’t said a word to anyone—and I don’t intend to.”
“That’s a relief,” Lance said ruefully. “You could upset a lot of plans.”
“I don’t intend to,” Manley repeated, and somehow Lance felt he could put faith in the man. Manley went on, “You wouldn’t want two five-dollar bills in exchange for a ten, would you?”
“I might at that,” Lance said slowly. What was the fellow up to? Lance drew a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and passed it through the grill.
Manley reached below his counter and secured two fives which he exchanged for the ten. Lance glanced at the numbers on the bills. Then he looked up, his eyes meeting Manley’s. Manley nodded slowly. Lance tensed. “Where ’d you get these?” he demanded.
“I can’t talk now,” Manley said, low voiced. “If I could meet you someplace after work——?”
“Anywhere you say. How about the sheriff’s office?”
Manley shook his head. “Somebody might see us. I wouldn’t be able to meet you until to night. It’s getting along toward the end of the month, and I’ll have to work fairly late. Do you know where Tony Pico’s saloon is? How about meeting me there? That’s the last place anybody would expect to see me——”
“Who do you mean by anybody?”
“Can’t tell you now. I’ll see you there to night around nine o’clock——” He stopped abruptly.
The door of Gillett Addison’s office had opened suddenly, and the banker emerged with his hat on. He frowned upon seeing Lance at Manley’s window.
“I doubt Manley can tell you anything, Tolliver,” he stated coldly, crossing over. “He scarcely stuck his head out the door.”
“I just learned that much, Mr Addison,” Lance said quietly. He still held in his hand the bills Manley had given him.
Addison spied the bills. His features tightened a bit, then he forced a cold smile. “Transacting a little business?”
Lance laughed. “Two-dollar bills are bad luck. I was just exchanging one for a couple of aces.” By this time Lance had thrust the two fives out of sight. He said much obliged to Manley and started toward the door with Addison by his side.
Addison said, “I’m just going out to my dinner. Have you tried the hotel yet? I’d be glad to have your company. I’d like to get better acquainted with the town’s new deputy.”
“Thanks, no,” Lance refused. “Some other time. I’m going to be right busy for a spell.” He wondered what had made the banker suddenly grow so genial. Probably the man wanted to question him, pump him. Or maybe it was just his imagination, Lance considered. On the street he said good-by to the banker and headed toward the sheriff’s office.
Lockwood and Oscar were waiting there when he arrived.
“Looks like you didn’t learn anything new?” Lockwood said.
“Regarding that shot, I didn’t,” Lance replied. “Did you two?”
“Nary a thing,” Lockwood stated gloomily.
Oscar shook his head. “From the various yarns I’ve listened to, I’m commencin’ to think that shot come down from the clouds.”
Lance asked, “Ethan, who is Elmer Manley? I know he’s cashier at the bank, but what do you know about him?”
“We-ell,” Lockwood said slowly, “I always figured Elmer was a right nice hombre. I can’t say I know much about him. He came to Pozo Verde about four years back—came out here for his health, he claimed. I reckon he was by way of becoming a lunger back in St Looie. That was his home. He told me one time he used to work for the First National Bank there. I’d be willing to take his word for that.’ Bout the time he arrived out here Gill Addison needed a cashier. Elmer landed the job. I don’t figure Gill pays him much, but I do think Elmer does most of the work around that bank. That bookkeeper they got in the bank—well, Elmer just about taught him to run the books from what I’ve heard. Yep, I figure Addison would miss Elmer was the boy to leave sudden. What about him?”
“He knows who I am.”
Lockwood whistled softly and in some consternation. He said finally, “What’s he going to do about it?”
“Manley says he doesn’t intend to reveal the information. I hope I can trust him. He wants to see me. I’m to meet him to night in Tony Pico’s saloon.”
Oscar chuckled. “That ’ll be a surprise all around. I don’t reckon Elmer knows what the inside of a bar looks like—let alone Tony Pico’s place, which is patronized almost solely by Mexes.”
“I’m betting,” Lockwood stated seriously, “that Elmer has something important to tell you. Me, I’d trust that fellow.”
“You sound encouraging, anyway”—Lance smiled—“so my stomach will probably enjoy that dinner it’s been craving. Either of you ready for chow?”
“Both of us already et,” Oscar said, “before we come back to the office. Figured you might do the same.”
“Shucks”—Lance laughed—“if I’d known I wasn’t going to have company I’d have taken Banker Addison up on his offer. He asked me to eat with him at the hotel.”
Oscar choked on a lemon drop. “By cripes,” he gulped, “I never knew that tightwad to buy anything for anybody before. There must have been a catch in it someplace.”
“If Gill Addison offered to buy your dinner”—Lock-wood frowned—“you can depend on it he had something in mind. He always gets double value for whatever he gives.”
“Maybe I made a profit by refusing then.” Lance laughed. “As a matter of fact, he didn’t urge me very hard…. By the way, Ethan, you’re going to have to get along without one of your deputies this afternoon. I’m going with Professor Jones, you know—though I don’t know how much good it will do me.”
“You’ll probably get stuck on one of two things,” Oscar prophesied: “cactus spines—or a girl with yellow hair. One nice thing about cactus spines—you can recover from their wounds.”
Lance flushed. “I doubt very much that Miss Gregory will go with us.”
“T’hell she won’t,” Oscar denied. “She’s a secretary, ain’t she? She usually does go riding with him.”
“In that case”—Lance grinned—“maybe the afternoon won’t be a total loss. Well, I’m going to hunt me a flock of food. See you later.”
He left the sheriff’s office and walked down Main Street to the Chinaman’s restaurant. Twenty minutes later he emerged and started toward the Lone Star Livery where his horse was stabled. He was still a couple of doors east of Laredo Street when he saw Chiricahua Herrick standing before the Pozo Verde Saloon talking to a Yaquente Indian. The two were having an argument of some sort. Lance paused and stood before a store window watching. The Yaquente appeared to be stubbornly insisting on something to which Herrick violently shook his head in the negative. Once Herrick raised his clenched fist with the quirt dangling from his wrist, but the Indian refused to give ground.
Lance mused, “Now I wonder what palaver Herrick. could be having with a Yaquente….”
