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CHAPTER 8

      THEY ARRIVED promptly — Amhearst with his shiny silver star, Hopper, Watson, and Gaines. Nugent thought he could search high and low and not find a finer-looking group of citizens.

      They sat around the dining room table in their usual places and poured themselves drinks from the bottles Nugent had set out on the sideboard. They drank sparingly, as befitted the town's leading citizens, and they talked of the new discoveries Bill Jackson of the Hayden Territorial Survey had made of Anasazi ruins in Mancos Canyon, and they were beginning to talk earnestly about the weather, how it was looking like a hard winter. . . .

      Nugent touched a spoon to the edge of his glass and the talking stopped. "I call this special meeting of the Law and Order Committee to order," he said. "Are you gentlemen ready?"

      They were.

      "You know I went to Central City because our associate, Mr. Weitnaur sent me another telegram. I presume Euc told you that Alex got himself robbed again?"

      He had.

      "Alex said the man jumped him as he was locking up, shoved a gun up his nose and made him open the safe. Alex figured he'd get the jump on him with the two-shot he keeps in there, but the robber was too fast for him. Oh, he put up a terrible battle first, you know. He told me all about it."

      Amhearst looked disgusted. "I can imagine."

      Nugent shrugged. "His assailant took about $900."

      "Has Alex taken up gambling — or did he just buy himself a gold waistcoat?" Watson asked sardonically.

      "Not as much as last time," said Gaines.

      Nugent leaned forward and sighted along the tip of his cigar as though the length of its ash was very important to him. "There's somethin' else. Man had on a mask with a skull painted on it. And after he hog-tied Alex and took a shot at his head from five feet away — he missed. Can you imagine such a thing?"

      "Hardly," said Gaines.

      "It's a fact, or so Alex told me." Nugent's pale blue eyes now shifted to the men around the table. He wondered if one of them really had robbed Weitnaur. If so, would he be able to understand the ledger books he'd taken? Did one of them know that Nugent, who already had a bigger share than the others because he was their leader, was taking a still bigger share than they knew, and that Weitnaur, that bucket of lard, was taking a bigger share too, because he was channeling the money?

      "Weitnaur's a crook and a liar," said Watson. "He robbed himself just like he did before." Watson's animosity for Weitnaur wasn't concealed, and it was reciprocated by Weitnaur, who never passed up a chance to do Watson an ill turn.

      "Maybe not. The man slammed the safe on Weitnaur's hand while he was getting ready to go for the two-shot he keeps inside. It busted a couple of Alex's fingers. I saw them, splint and all, and they were blue and swollen. I don't thing he would have faked that."

      "Very unlikely," Gaines said.

      "Alex is, after all, of normal intelligence," Nugent said. "He wouldn't make up such a fanciful tale as a man in a skull mask if there was no need to." Studying their faces, Nugent saw no indication that one of them knew more about it than the others. He doubted if one of them was involved; if it was one of the men at the table, he wouldn't have bothered with a mask. He'd have taken what he wanted and then killed Weitnaur.

      Nugent continued smoothly, "Now, let's get on to another matter. I've invited company for dinner. A man Alex and I met at the Palace, and we sort of took to each other like ducks to water."

      They said nothing, but they knew that Nugent was not the kind of man to make easy friends and invite them to dinner.

      "Seems a nice fellow — maybe ten years younger than us. His name is Bill Purdy, and he has a big bankroll which he flashes a lot — about $900 worth, I guess."

      They grew still and watched Nugent intently, and he enjoyed that.

      "Mr. Purdy says he's rich — got bales of money his daddy left him in a bank back East. He's looking for an opportunity to invest it in something. I've already talked about our railroad scheme and he may come around."

      "You mentioned a sum — $900. Does that mean you think he was the man with the mask?" Amhearst asked.

      "I don't know, but when a man strikes up a conversation with me in the saloon and ingratiates himself, and talks about money, and sets the bait just so, I don't trust him."

      "But he's coming to dinner." Amhearst said.

      "That's right. And I want you boys to be nice to him. It won't be hard because he's a nice fellow, and I like him myself. But I want one of you —" he looked around, and pointed to Hopper — "you, Euc, to sort of adopt him and show him around and keep your eye on him. Give him rope. Maybe he'll hang himself, and maybe he won't. But I've been thinking that robber could of missed our friend on purpose, so he would lead him to us."

      Nugent looked at his watch and looked out the front window. "And he's about halfway up the road right now." He looked from face to face, smiling. "Anything else?"

      Watson cleared his throat. "As president of the mining district —-"

      There was the sound of polite restrained laughter.

      Watson pursed his lips. "Well I am, all duly recorded and elected by a good number of our votes. I fear we're heading for a little trouble with one Lemenuel Beeme. A hotheaded fellow who's developing a following at the camp. He's been making trouble about us buying and taking over claims. Now it's his claim that's on the line, and he won't give it up."

      "I know who he is," said Amhearst.

      "Maybe he'd give up his claim willingly if he was to lose something else," Nugent said.

      "The use of a leg, for instance," said Amhearst.

      "It would set a good example for the others," Watson said. "I'd authorize that action, Sheriff."

      "Quiet," Nugent said. "I hear our guest on the porch."

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