The Rider of Golden Bar Part 74

At which the district attorney was more than ever certain that the midnight visitor was Billy Wingo. "You go tell him that he'll have to come into the kitchen before I'll talk to him. Close the kitchen door most to. I can look at him through the crack."

The housekeeper departed, and the district attorney slipped off his shoes and tip-toed into the hall. The housekeeper, hair in curl papers and wearing a wrapper, met him before he reached the kitchen door.

"He says he won't come in," she told him, "and told me to tell you he wanted to see about a note for five thousand dollars he has in his pocket."

"Now I know who it is," said the district attorney. "You go to bed.

I'll let him in."

After the district attorney heard the slam and following click of his housekeeper's door, he went into the kitchen, turned down the flame of the lamp and opened the kitchen door.

"That you, Rale?" inquired a m.u.f.fled voice.

"Yes! Come in! Come in!"

The man in outer darkness spat out two pebbles. "Is that d.a.m.n woman there?" he asked in the natural tone of voice of Jack Murray.

"No! Come _in_! I want to shut the door."

Jack Murray entered quickly.

"What in h.e.l.l are you doing here?" demanded the district attorney, when he and the other were behind the closed door of the office. "Don't you know----"

"I wanted to see you," Jack Murray said, seating himself in the nearest chair. "Ain't you glad to see me?"

"Not very," the district attorney said frankly. "If you get caught----"

"I ain't gonna get caught. The man ain't born yet to catch me. I suppose you got the money for that note."

"No, I haven't."

"Why haven't you?"

"I couldn't raise it."

"What's the matter with you? Ain't you got any credit left?"

"Folks won't lend money unless they get security, and I haven't any security that hasn't already been put up."

"_He_ didn't ask for security," thus Jack Murray with an indescribable leer.

"That--was--different."

"I guess it was. Yeah. I always had an idea you were a rich man."

"A lot of people thought so," the district attorney said bitterly. "As a matter of fact, I've been hard pressed for money all my life. I've always had a hand in too many deals."

"You were able to chip in on that reward for me without any trouble."

"I knew I'd never have to pay it. Some day, when all my different enterprises pan out, I'll have money, but now I haven't got any."

"How about that bribe in the Jacksboro range case last fall? Why, they must have paid you all of three or four thousand dollars."

The district attorney shook his head. "No, only twenty-five hundred, and two thousand of that went for some insurance I had to pay in January."

"Two thousand dollars for insurance!"

"That's what I said."

"You're lying. Whoever heard of two thousand dollars for insurance?"

"Oh, I wasn't the only one. Rafe had to pay the same. And Tip a thousand. Oh, never mind trying to understand it. It's too long a story now."

"I guess it is. I ain't carin' much about listening to any such stories, anyway. I didn't ride alla way north from Dorothy just for that. I want the money for that note."

"I haven't it, and you could have gotten that information by writing for it. You didn't have to take the trip. You----"

"The money ain't all I come for. I want to settle my li'l account with Bill Wingo."

"I thought that li'l account was closed," said the district attorney, with the shadow of a sneer that Murray did not catch.

"It won't be closed till Bill Wingo is pushin' up the gra.s.s," averred Jack Murray. "This territory ain't big enough for the two of us."

"If you had any sense it would be."

"Meanin'?"

"Meaning that Bill Wingo is a pretty cold proposition for you to handle."

"I'm better than he ever thought of being, and don't you let anybody tell you different. I'll get that ---- ---- if I have to follow him to h.e.l.l! d.a.m.n his soul! If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be where I am now! If it wasn't for him, I'd be sheriff of this county! If it wasn't for him-- Oh, I got a-plenty reasons for putting that Wingo where he belongs."

"Sally Jane, huh?" the district attorney supplied with malice.

"I didn't say anything about Sally Jane."

"I know you didn't. But I got eyes, man. I'll bet you like her still."

"Don't you lose any sleep over who I like."

"I ain't. I only thought you might be interested in knowin' that she and Bill are thick again, like they used to be. Thicker, you might say."

Jack Murray's thin lips became thinner. "Skinny Shindle told me somethin' about him switching to Hazel Walton."

"Don't you believe it," blattered the district attorney, continuing to rapidly pump the bellows on the fire of Jack Murray's hatred. "Hazel Walton was only a pa.s.sing fancy. Sally Jane is the girl for him, you can gamble on it. Tough luck, Jack. I'll bet you'd have stood better than a fighting chance with her if she hadn't listened to his lies."

"He'll never have her!" snarled Jack Murray, wagging a vicious head.

"By Gawd, he won't!"

"I guess she thinks he will--when this muss is cleared up," said the district attorney, with admirably simulated carelessness. "Hazel--I mean Sally Jane----"