As Andrew went down the stairs and through the entrance
hall he noticed it was filled with armed men.
At the door he paused for the least fraction of a
second, and during that breathing space he had seen
every face in the room. Then he walked carelessly
across to the desk and asked for his bill.
Someone, as he crossed the room, whirled to follow
him with a glance. Andy heard, for his ears were
sharpened: “I thought for a minute—But
it does look like him!”
“Aw, Mike, I seen that gent in the barroom the
other day. Besides, he’s just a kid.”
“So’s this Lanning. I’m going
out to look at the poster again. You hold this
gent here.”
“All right. I’ll talk to him while
you’re gone. But be quick. I’ll
be holdin’ a laugh for you, Mike.”
Andrew paid his bill, but as he reached the door a
short man with legs bowed by a life in the saddle
waddled out to him and said: “Just a minute,
partner. Are you one of us?”
“One of who?” asked Andrew.
“One of the posse Hal is getting together?
Well, come to think of it, I guess you’re a
stranger around here, ain’t you?”
“Me?” asked Andrew. “Why, I’ve
just been talking to Hal.”
“About young Lanning?”
“Yes.”
“By the way, if you’re out of Hal’s
country, maybe you know Lanning, too?”
“Sure. I’ve stood as close to him
as I am to you.”
“You don’t say so! What sort of a
looking fellow is he?”
“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Andrew,
and he smiled in an embarrassed manner. “They
say he’s a ringer for me. Not much of a
compliment, is it?”
The other gasped, and then laughed heartily.
“No, it ain’t, at that,” he replied.
“Say, I got a pal that wants to talk to you.
Sort of a job on him, at that.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said Andy
calmly. “Take him in to the bar, and I’ll
come in and have a drink with him and you in about
two minutes. S’long.”
He was gone through the door while the other half
reached a hand toward him. But that was all.
In the stables he had the saddle on the chestnut in
twenty seconds, and brought him to the watering trough
before the barroom.
He found his short, bow-legged friend in the barroom
in the midst of excited talk with a big, blond man.
He looked a German, with his parted beard and his
imposing front and he had the stern blue eye of a fighter.
“Is this your friend?” asked Andrew, and
walked straight up to them. He watched the eyes
of the big man expand and then narrow; his hand even
fumbled at his hip, but then he shook his head.
He was too bewildered to act.
At that moment there was an uproar from the upper
part of the hotel. With a casual wave of his
hand, Andy wandered out of the barroom and then raced
for the street. He heard men shouting in the lobby.
