Prev | Current Page 156 | Next

Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Black Jack"

But she was pretty fond of the sheriff, you know. I don't
blame her for carrying a grudge. Now, about the money, Denver; I happen
to have a little with me. Take what you want."
Denver took the proffered money without a word, counted it with a deftly
stabbing forefinger, and shoved the wad into his hip pocket.
"All right," he said, "this'll sort of sweeten the pot. You don't need
it?"
"I'll get along without it. And you won't break the safe?"
"Hell!" grunted Denver. "Does it hang on that?"
Terry leaned forward in his chair.
"Denver, don't break that safe!"
"You kind of say that as if you was boss, maybe," sneered Denver.
"I am," said Terry, "as far as this goes."
"How'll you stop me, kid? Sit up all night and nurse the safe?"
"No. But I'll follow you, Denver. And I'll get you. You understand? I'll
stay on your trail till I have you."
Again there was a long moment of silence, then, "Black Jack!" muttered
Denver. "You're like his ghost! I think you'd get me, right enough! Well,
I'll call it off. This fifty will help me along a ways."
At the door he whirled sharply on Terence Hollis.


Pages:
144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168