think the major and I understand each other better now."
The food came, and as he ate, Addie talked to him.
"What are you going to do now, Paul?"
"I'm not sure."
"You going to cut and run without Alonzo?"
"Look, Addie, I've been framed, kicked around, shot at. I've got only a few more days to wait, and I intend to wait. If I live that long, Finch is going back with me."
"In the meantime, what are you going to do?"
"I figured maybe you had a room here for me— I'll just hang around and wait for the warrant." He remembered the letter he had not received and frowned.
"I'm glad you quit your job," Addie said.
"Why?" Paul asked suspiciously. "Why should you be glad?"
"Carmody, Farrow and myself intend to offer you a proposition. They're coming over tonight."
"What kind of proposition could you offer me, Addie? I'm suspected of murder, branded a thief…"
"I think I know who the murderer is," Addie said softly, a note of sadness creeping into her voice.
"Well, for gosh sakes, speak up!"
"Not yet, Paul. I want to be sure. If we pick the wrong man, the right man will go free. When you're through eating, come up to my room." With that, Addie rose and went through the bar and up the stairway.
Paul went into the bar and saw Alonzo Finch drinking at the bar with a couple of miners.
Paul sauntered up to the bar, caught Finch's attention and said, "How about drinks all around?"
The miners looked at Paul with respect and friendliness. "We sure would be proud to drink with you, Scott."
"Does hay hauling pay so well that you can afford to treat, Paul?" Finch asked.
"It doesn't pay as well as some other things, Finch," Paul replied. He took out Big-head's purse and tossed it on the bar in full view of Finch.
"Where did you get that?" Finch said, the slightest hesitation in his guarded voice.
"Do you recognize it, Alonzo? I took it off Big-head Larson."
"But I thought you said you didn't kill him."
"I didn't. But you know what I think, Finch? I think you paid him what's in that purse to kill me!"
The miners moved uneasily. Finch, though his gun was hidden, was armed, and Paul wore his forty-five in full view on his hip.
"Paul, you're still a nuisance. One of these days you're going to find yourself in trouble," Finch said evenly. His soft-looking body appeared to harden and grow taller.
"How about now?" Paul asked, pushing back from the bar.
Finch shrugged. "Why should I do the law's work?"
Addie appeared at the foot of the stairs and beckoned to Paul. He picked up the purse that had belonged to Big-head, threw a coin on the bar and told the others to order up. Then he turned to follow Addie to her room.
For a moment he felt uncomfortable and out of place in the luxuriously furnished room, that smelled of perfume and cosmetics. Candles shed a soft radiance upon the silk bedspread and the brocade furniture.
"You've got a right pretty place here, Addie," Paul complimented her.
"I've got some good brandy, too," she said. "That stuff at the bar isn't much good, but it's all I can get here. I have this sent out from New York."
She poured him a small glass of the amber fluid. Her every movement was graceful and yet dead sure. Paul sipped the brandy and felt it burn in his stomach.
"Why did you want me here, Addie?" he asked, watching her.
"Don't you like it?"
"I reckon it's real nice—too nice for a rough man in a rough country to appreciate. It would soften him."
"A man like you can get too hard, Paul."
"I wouldn't know. I know only that somebody is bent on making it tough for me. They're willing to go to any extreme except meeting me face to face. That meeting's got to come, and I can't afford to be soft about it, Addie."
"I was gauging you," she said with ill-concealed pleasure. "We want to hire you as a man to keep the law here…"
Before Paul could reply, there was the scrape of feet in the hall, and Addie let Carmody and Farrow into the room. These men, too, felt uneasy in such feminine surroundings.
The food came, and as he ate, Addie talked to him.
"What are you going to do now, Paul?"
"I'm not sure."
"You going to cut and run without Alonzo?"
"Look, Addie, I've been framed, kicked around, shot at. I've got only a few more days to wait, and I intend to wait. If I live that long, Finch is going back with me."
"In the meantime, what are you going to do?"
"I figured maybe you had a room here for me— I'll just hang around and wait for the warrant." He remembered the letter he had not received and frowned.
"I'm glad you quit your job," Addie said.
"Why?" Paul asked suspiciously. "Why should you be glad?"
"Carmody, Farrow and myself intend to offer you a proposition. They're coming over tonight."
"What kind of proposition could you offer me, Addie? I'm suspected of murder, branded a thief…"
"I think I know who the murderer is," Addie said softly, a note of sadness creeping into her voice.
"Well, for gosh sakes, speak up!"
"Not yet, Paul. I want to be sure. If we pick the wrong man, the right man will go free. When you're through eating, come up to my room." With that, Addie rose and went through the bar and up the stairway.
Paul went into the bar and saw Alonzo Finch drinking at the bar with a couple of miners.
Paul sauntered up to the bar, caught Finch's attention and said, "How about drinks all around?"
The miners looked at Paul with respect and friendliness. "We sure would be proud to drink with you, Scott."
"Does hay hauling pay so well that you can afford to treat, Paul?" Finch asked.
"It doesn't pay as well as some other things, Finch," Paul replied. He took out Big-head's purse and tossed it on the bar in full view of Finch.
"Where did you get that?" Finch said, the slightest hesitation in his guarded voice.
"Do you recognize it, Alonzo? I took it off Big-head Larson."
"But I thought you said you didn't kill him."
"I didn't. But you know what I think, Finch? I think you paid him what's in that purse to kill me!"
The miners moved uneasily. Finch, though his gun was hidden, was armed, and Paul wore his forty-five in full view on his hip.
"Paul, you're still a nuisance. One of these days you're going to find yourself in trouble," Finch said evenly. His soft-looking body appeared to harden and grow taller.
"How about now?" Paul asked, pushing back from the bar.
Finch shrugged. "Why should I do the law's work?"
Addie appeared at the foot of the stairs and beckoned to Paul. He picked up the purse that had belonged to Big-head, threw a coin on the bar and told the others to order up. Then he turned to follow Addie to her room.
For a moment he felt uncomfortable and out of place in the luxuriously furnished room, that smelled of perfume and cosmetics. Candles shed a soft radiance upon the silk bedspread and the brocade furniture.
"You've got a right pretty place here, Addie," Paul complimented her.
"I've got some good brandy, too," she said. "That stuff at the bar isn't much good, but it's all I can get here. I have this sent out from New York."
She poured him a small glass of the amber fluid. Her every movement was graceful and yet dead sure. Paul sipped the brandy and felt it burn in his stomach.
"Why did you want me here, Addie?" he asked, watching her.
"Don't you like it?"
"I reckon it's real nice—too nice for a rough man in a rough country to appreciate. It would soften him."
"A man like you can get too hard, Paul."
"I wouldn't know. I know only that somebody is bent on making it tough for me. They're willing to go to any extreme except meeting me face to face. That meeting's got to come, and I can't afford to be soft about it, Addie."
"I was gauging you," she said with ill-concealed pleasure. "We want to hire you as a man to keep the law here…"
Before Paul could reply, there was the scrape of feet in the hall, and Addie let Carmody and Farrow into the room. These men, too, felt uneasy in such feminine surroundings.
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