Part 31 (2/2)

”What?” Thus Jack Harpe, astonished beyond measure.

”Ten dollars or ten days,” repeated Judge Dolan. ”Taking a shot at you is worth ten dollars but no more. It don't make any difference whether you came here to invest money or not, you wanna go slow round the women.”

”But I didn't even say howdy to her,” protested Jack Harpe.

”She says different. You leave her alone.”

Public opinion, which at first had rather favoured Jack Harpe, now frowned upon him. He shouldn't have insulted the girl. No, sir, he had no business doing that. Be a good thing if he was arrested for it, perhaps. What a virtuous thing is public opinion.

”I ain't got a nickel, Judge,” said Marie. ”You'll have to trust me for it till the end of the week.”

”I'll pay her fine,” nipped in Racey, glad of an opportunity to annoy Jack Harpe. ”Here y' are, Judge. Ten dollars, you said.”

It was a few minutes after he had eaten dinner that Racey Dawson presented himself at the door of Kansas Casey's shack. The door was open. Racey stood in the doorway and leaned the shovel against the wall of the room.

”You forgot yore shovel, Kansas,” he said, gently, ”or Jack Harpe did.

Same thing, and here it is.”

Kansas had the grace to look a trifle shamefaced. ”Somebody said you'd buried that knife--” he began, and stopped.

”Yep, I know, Jack Harpe,” smiled Racey. ”Li'l Bright Eyes is sh.o.r.e a friend of mine. Only I wouldn't bank too strong on what he says about me.”

”I ain't,” denied the deputy.

”Another thing, Kansas,” drawled Racey, ”did you ever stop to think how come he knowed so much about that knife? And did you ask him if he was the gent left that paper in Jake's office? And going on from that did you ask him why he didn't come out flat footed at first and say what he thought he knowed instead of waiting till after you'd searched my room? You don't have to answer, Kansas, only if I was you I'd think it over, I'd think it over plenty. So long.”

From the house of Casey he went to the shack of Marie. He found the girl cooking her dinner quite as if attempts at murder, dead men, and jailburning were matters of small moment. But if her manner was placid, her eyes were not. They were bright and hard, and they flickered stormily upon him when she lifted her gaze from the pan of frying potatoes and saw who it was standing in the doorway.

”I'm obliged to you,” she said, calmly, ”for payin' my fine. You ran away so quick this mornin' you didn't gimme any chance to thank you.

I'll pay you back soon's I get paid come Sat.u.r.day.”

Racey stared reproachfully. He s.h.i.+fted his weight from one uncomfortable foot to the other. ”I didn't come here about the fine,”

he told her. ”I--” He stopped, uncertain whether to continue or not.

”If you didn't come about the fine it must be something else important,” said she, insultingly. ”I sh.o.r.e oughta be set up, I suppose. So far it's always been me that's had to make all the moves.”

”'Moves?'” repeated Racey, frankly puzzled.

”Moves,” she mimicked. ”Didn't you ever play checkers? Oh, nemmine, nemmine! Don't take it to heart. I don't mean nothin'. Never did.

C'mon in an' set. Take a chair. That one. What do you want? Down feller, down!”

The command was called forth by the violent entry of the yellow dog which, remembering Racey as a friend, flung itself upon him with whines and tail-waggings.

”He's all right,” said Racey, rubbing the rough head. ”I just thought I'd ask you what you knew about Jack Harpe.”

Marie's narrowed eyes turned dark with suspicion. ”Whadda you know about me an' Jack Harpe?” she demanded.

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