“Now you get the idea out of yore mind,” advised Soapy. “Sun Dog needs a reg’lar sheriff—not a —— chilblain like Hank Stagg.” “Soapy, do yuh think that Bill Grant, Hendricks and Leach will be nominated?” “Leach don’t have to—he’s a hold-over, Brick. But I reckon Grant and Hendricks will be elected ag’in. They’re as good as we can pick.” “They don’t like me, Soapy.” “Well, my ——, what do you care? Are yuh gettin’ so that folks has to send yuh vi’lets?” Brick laughed widely at the serious expression on Soapy’s face. “Listen, Soapy,” he said softly, “they’ve hired a professional detective to come here to unravel our troubles.” “No! A—a—well, that’s fine. I suppose we’ll have to take up a collection to send his body back to Iowa, or to some other ——ed seaport. By golly, that’s fine! Well—” Soapy cuffed his hat sideways on his head, and bit off a generous chew of tobacco—“that settles all our troubles. You can just set down and let him bring yuh the criminals. “I wonder whose idea that was? Mebbe all three. By ——, if their combined brains were turned into dynamite and loaded into a .22 shell, it wouldn’t have power enough to kick the bullet out of a two-inch barrel. Professional detective, ——! I’m goin’ to find me a poker game, Brick. I crave action, I do. So-long!” * * * * * Brick stood at the hitch-rack and grinned at Soapy, who was bow-legging his way across the street toward the Short Horn saloon. Sam Leach came out of the store, started to turn the other way, but noticed Brick and came over to him. “You remember we spoke to you about that expert investigator the other day, Davidson?” said Leach. Brick nodded slowly. “He will be here almost any day now,” continued Leach. “We told you this in strict confidence, and—well, we want you to keep the information to yourself. His value is gone, if his identity is known.” “Yeah?” Brick grinned. “You can see that for yourself, can’t you? He will probably go to work as a cowpuncher.” “He ought to be worth forty a month,” mused Brick. Leach scowled slightly. He had crossed verbal swords with Brick before, and he knew that the red-headed sheriff carried a sharp weapon in range-repartee. Brick looked up quickly. “Seems to me that yo’re takin’ a —— of a lot of interest in my office, Leach.” “Not in your office—in the good of the county, Davidson.” “Yeah? She was a pretty good county before you came here, Leach. Mebbe she’ll be a good county after yo’re gone.” “I don’t think I understand you, Davidson.” “Don’tcha? Well, that’s all right then. What yuh don’t understand won’t worry yuh none.” Brick turned and crossed the street to a hitch-rack, where he mounted his horse and rode back toward Marlin City. Leach watched him ride away, shrugged his shoulders indifferently and walked down the street toward McGill’s saloon.