Free Riverboat Blaze by J. R. Roberts Page B

a long list,” Clint said. “You see, everything Dean does isn’t always on the up-and-up.”
    “Oh, I see.”
    “This was supposed to be a legitimate enterprise for him, but now I don’t know.”
    “You think he was pulling something?” Jerry asked. “But he had a huge investment in that boat.”
    “I know his investors had huge investments in the boat,” Clint said. “I don’t know how much money Dean invested himself.”
    “But look at the boat he built,” Jerry said.
    “Yeah,” Clint said, “big and heavy. Is it insured? Will he get any money for the fact that it burned and sank? And will his investors get any of that?”
    “You think he built this huge boat just to bilk his investors?”
    “I don’t know, Jerry,” Clint said, tapping ash from his cigar, “I just don’t know.”

TWENTY-SIX
    Jerry went back to his room to see how his wife was doing. Clint remained out in front of the hotel, finishing his cigar and thinking. Would Dean Dillon have invited him onto the Dolly Madison knowing that it was going to sink? Would he have risked the life of all those people for a scam? He’d known Dillon to con people out of their money, but he’d never known the man to risk the lives of others.
    He wondered what had happened to the Warrant brothers. And what about the gamblers, Kingdom and Galvin? And Galvin’s woman, Kathy? Clint still didn’t know how many people had been picked up from both shores. Maybe he’d find out tomorrow, when he went down to the offices of the Anchor Line to see Stan McKay.
    He was about to toss the remainder of the cigar into the street when Angela came walking out the front door.
    “I was wondering where you were,” she said to him.
    “I figured you needed your rest,” he said. “How are you?”
    “I’m okay,” she said. “I have something to talk to you about, though.”
    “What’s that?”
    “It’s about the Dolly Madison .”
    “Do you know something about the boat sinking?” he asked.
    “Not exactly.”
    He tossed the cigar into the street after all, and turned to face her.
    “Angela, if you know something . . . Was Dean trying to pull something?”
    “I don’t know about that,” she said. “I know something about . . . the cargo.”
    “What about it?”
    “There’s something on the boat that’s very . . . valuable.”
    “What do you mean, valuable?”
    “I mean worth,” she looked around, then lowered her voice and said, “a lot of money.”
    “I know what valuable means, Angela,” Clint said. “You’re not being very clear.”
    “I know it,” she said. “I’m taking a big chance talking to you like this, Clint.”
    “What kind of chance?”
    “With my life.”
    “Well then, maybe we shouldn’t be having this conversation outside,” he said.
    “Your room?” she asked.
    “Let’s go inside and have some coffee instead,” he said.
     
    The man standing in the shadows across the street watched Clint take Angela’s arm and lead her back into the hotel. He didn’t know if he could still trust Angela or not. He didn’t care if she went to bed with the Gunsmith. He just didn’t want her talking to him.
    Not about what was in the hold of the Dolly Madison .
     
    Clint and Angela were seated, and then ordered not only coffee but pie. The waiter did not comment on the fact that Clint had just left the restaurant.
    “Okay,” Clint said, when they had coffee and pie in front of them, “what’s going on, Angela?”
    She took a bite of apple pie and a sip of coffee. Clint knew she was gathering her thoughts, and he allowed her to do so in her own time.
    “Okay,” she said, “I’m just gonna say it.”
    “Good.”
    She took a deep breath.
    “There’s gold on the Dolly Madison .”

TWENTY-SEVEN
    “Say that again, slowly,” Clint said.
    “Gold,” she said. “On the Dolly Madison .”
    “How do you know?”
    “I’ll tell you that later,” she said.
    “Did Dean know about the gold?”
    “No,” she said. “All he