mistakes they might not otherwise make.
It was for this reason that he had deliberatel y prodded Wilson Hoyt. Any move the marsha l might make at this time would help. Even if h e only started asking questions it might be enough.
While Shevlin stood there, Ben Stow e suddenly appeared in the door of the Nevad a House, and Mike Shevlin started toward him , walking swiftly. Stowe turned at the sound of hi s heels, and Shevlin caught the hard, measurin g look. And suddenly Mike felt like old times.
He knew that now the waiting was over and he was goin g into battle. He felt a wild surge o f eagerness within him that he had to fight down.
Stowe was poised and ready for him. Mike sa w it even as Stowe spoke. "Hello, Mike.
How about a drink for old times' sake?"
"No time for drinking, Ben." Mike grinne d at him, daringly, challengingly. "I'm goin g to tear down your playhouse, Ben."
Ben Stowe's expression did not change; h e simply said, "Mike, everybody would be happie r if you'd just ride on out of here." Ben reached in hi s pocket and took out a fat roll of bills.
"Now, if you're short of cash--his"
"Remember me? There were always a lot of thing s more important than money."
"Eli Patterson is dead, Mike. If yo u start opening that up, a lot of people will get hurt."
"That's what I had in mind."
"You won't leave?"
Ben Stowe was thinking about his plans for Shevlin.
The trouble was, they might not work fast enough, s o he'd have to make other, faster plans.
"Ben?" Mike spoke quietly, almos t gently, so that suddenly every sense in Stowe's bod y was alert. "Ben, why don't you leave?"
Stowe was startled at the words. He stare d sharply, unbelievingly at Shevlin. "Me?
Why should I leave?"
"Think about it, Ben. You and me, we're no t exactly tenderfeet. We've both been through th e mill. I say, grab it and run. You've ha d everything your way, and you've got a lot stashe d away, so why not take it and get out? Believ e me, Ben, it's all over."
Ben Stowe started to make an angry reply , then hesitated. Shevlin was keyed up, he coul d see that, and the last thing Stowe wanted was a gu n battle. And then he had a shockin g sense that Shevlin was right.
He struck a match and took his time lighting hi s cigar. He was shocked at the sudden wave o f panic that had swept through him.
Ben Stowe was realist enough to know that the doubt ha d been lingering there all the time, and Shevlin's word s had just exploded his feeling into desperation. In an y such deal as this there was always that feeling that it was to o good to last; and that feeling had been building large r and larger in all of them. Only a damned foo l could fail to be apprehensive. But Ben Stowe wa s a hard man; he fought down his panic.
"You seem to be riding a rough saddle , Mike. What's your stake in all this?"
"Give me the man who killed Eli."
Stowe shot him a swift glance. "Eli?
Mike, men have died before, and others have yet to die , so why get worked up over him?"
He made one last attempt, not to bu y Shevlin, but to stall him. "Why not come into the party , Mike? This cake is big enough for all of us."
"Give me the man who killed Eli."
Stowe drew on his cigar. "Now, I might jus t do that, Mike," he said, knowing he could do nothin g of the kind. "Give me a couple of days."
"Make it twenty-four hours." Shevli n moved to be off. "But take it from me, Ben, you' d better take what you've got and run. You r game's played out."
Abruptly, he walked away. Ben Stow e would be no bargain in a fight. He had always bee n tough, but he was tougher, colder, and smarter now.
Somehow he must crack the tight ring that Stow e had built around the enterprise. Once that ring wa s cracked, once somebody was hit with panic, the n the whole thing would fall apart as everybod y scrambled for safety with everything they could lay thei r hands on.
Mason ... Mason had to be the weak link.
Not Gib Gentry, for Gib would dig in hi s heels and make a fight of it. Nor di