"Jes' listenin' ter that beautiful readin'," he grinned, his
long yellow tobacco-stained teeth all bare in a facial contortion that
essayed a smile, his distended lips almost failing of articulation. "Them
was fine clothes sure on that lovely child."
The flamboyant advertisements had often before been read aloud in the
construction camp, and the matter might have passed as the half-fevered
babblings of a sick old man, but for that look of stultified comment, of
anguished foreboding, that was interchanged between the two accomplices.
Only one man, however, had the keen observation to catch that fleeting
signal, and the enterprise to seek to interpret it.
The next day, when Clenk did not reappear, this man quietly slipped to
the shack where the three lived together. There was a padlock knocking in
the wind on the flimsy door. This said as plain as speech that there was
no one within. Ordinarily this would have precluded all question, all
entrance. But the intruder was seeking a pot of gold, and informed by a
strong suspicion.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181