“There is one point,” he said when they
were alone, “that it seems to me the chief has
overlooked.”
“Talk up, kid,” grinned Denver Pete.
“I seen you was thinking. It sure does
me good to hear you talk. What’s on your
mind? Where was Joe wrong?”
“Not wrong, perhaps. But he overlooked
this fact: tonight the safe is guarded by three
men only; tomorrow it will be guarded by six.”
Denver stared, and then blinked.
“You mean, try the safe right in town, inside
the old bank? Son, you don’t know the gents
in this town. They sleep with a gat under every
head and ears that hear a pin drop in the next room—right
while they’re snoring. They dream about
fighting and they wake up ready to shoot.”
Terry smiled at this outburst.
“How long has it been since there was a raid
on McGuire’s town?”
“Dunno. Don’t remember anybody being
that foolish”
“Then it’s been so long that it’ll
give us a chance. It’s been so long that
the three men on guard tonight will be half asleep.”
“I dunno but you’re right. Why didn’t
you speak up in company? I’ll call the
chief and—”
“Wait,” said Terry, laying a hand on the
round, hard-muscled shoulder of the yegg. “I
had a purpose in waiting. Seven men are too many
to take into a town.”
“Eh?”
“Two men might surprise three. But seven
men are more apt to be surprised.”
“Two ag’in’ three ain’t such
bad odds, pal. But—the first gun that
pops, we’ll have the whole town on our backs.”
“Then we’ll have to do it without shooting.
You understand, Denver?”
Denver scratched his head. Plainly he was uneasy;
plainly, also, he was more and more fascinated by
the idea.
“You and me to turn the trick alone?”
he whispered out of the side of his mouth in a peculiar,
confidentially guilty way that was his when he was
excited. “Kid, I begin to hear the old Black
Jack talk in you! I begin to hear him talk!
I knew it would come!”
An hour’s ride brought them to the environs
of the little town. But it was already nearly
the middle of night and the village was black; whatever
life waked at that hour had been drawn into the vortex
of Pedro’s. And Pedro’s was a place
of silence. Terry and Denver skirted down the
back of the town and saw the broad windows of Pedro’s,
against which passed a moving silhouette now and again,
but never a voice floated out to them.
Otherwise the town was dead. They rode until
they were at the other extremity of the main street.
Here, according to Denver, was the bank which had
never in its entire history been the scene of an attempted
raid. They threw the reins of their horses after
drawing almost perilously close.
“Because if we get what we want,” said
Terry, “it will be too heavy to carry far.”
