the reins
to Callie. "Got something I have to do."
Drew went directly to the Four Jacks. This time the cantina was filled,
with a double row of the thirsty demanding attention at the bar. But
Topham was seated at a table with _Don_ Lorenzo and Zack Cahill of the
stage line. The Kentuckian went over to them.
"You have come to back your horse, _senor_?" _Don_ Lorenzo smiled up at
Drew. There were piles of coins on the table as Cahill listed bets for the
men crowding around.
"Yes, suh." Drew spun down two double eagles. "What're the odds?"
"Started six to one for Oro," Topham told him. "Coasted down after a few
of the boys had a look at Shiloh. Can give you four to one now. Anything
else we can do for you?"
Drew dropped his voice. "Do you have a safe here?"
Topham's eyebrows climbed. "Do you foresee a deposit or a withdrawal?"
"Deposit. I want to ride light today."
"Then I'll admit possession of a safe, such as it is. _Don_ Lorenzo, _por
favor_, will you act as banker?" He beckoned Drew after him into a small
back room which was in sharp contrast to the main part of the Four Jacks.
On one wall was a fanned display of old daggers and swords which dated a
century or so back to the Spanish colonial days. A bookcase crammed with
tightly squeezed volumes provided a resting place for pieces of native
pottery bearing grotesque animal designs. On the far wall were strips of
brightly colored woven materials flanking a huge closed cupboard, a very
old one, Drew thought. Its paneled front was carved with deeply incised
patterns centering about a shield bearing arms. Only the battered desk and
an attendant chair with a laced rawhide seat were of the frontier.
Topham took a chained key from the pocket of his fancy vest and went to
fit it into a lock concealed in the carved foliage of the cupboard. The
shield split down the middle, revealing shelves of metal boxes and packets
of papers. Drew unfastened his money belt and handed it over. As he was
tucking his shirt in his belt once more the gambler nodded at the
cupboard.
"This is about as near a bank as we boast in Tubacca. Cahill has a
strongbox at the stage station, and Stein some kind of a lockup at his
store--that's the total for the town. We haven't grown to the size for a
real banking establishment--"
"Hey, Reese, th' Old Man about--?"
Shannon was in the doorway. In the full light of day he looked younger.
Drew was puzzled. That strange animosity which
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