Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1943-12-03
CHAPTER XIII

at the hotel here"
1T was too early to arrest HIM
or anybody else, for that matter"
he said.
A friendly hand struck me lightly
on the shoulder and I turned about
to discover Dwight Nichols. Sam
Chatfield was with him.
"Still sleuthing, you two?" Dwight
asked, and when Rogers repeated
the observation he had just made
to me, Dwight laughed. "Why not
have table? The nights young,
and the beers good"
So we moved to a table and Or
dered round of beer. AS the mozo
set the order on the table, stocky
figure in a huge black sombrero
showed in and sat down in the re-
naming vacant seat.
Hello, fellows" rasped the husky
voice of George Rumble. mind if
set down with you white guys?
get fed up with these Mexicans.
Maybe all this around me is CLAM
our, but think it's the bunk
Every fellow to his own TASTE"
remarked Sam Chatfield. II love
Mexico"
Il don't. 1 wish l was heading
home tomorrow"
whats keeping your" asked,
striving for a humorous jibe.
There was a hurt expression in
Rumble's eyes as if I had struck
him an unexpected blow, and I apol-
ogized for the remark.
''Oh, I know you mean it all right,
Barry" he replied. maybe I have
hollered too much about this town.
guess it's true what they say;
when you leave the good old U.S.A.
you can't expect the same service.
We're tops in everything. But since
you ask me, there's only one thing
that's keeping me. That's Elsa"
"Elsa?" echoed Sam Chatfield,
turning to Rumble questioningly.
eyes. You know, Chatfeld. if I
had a Chinaman's chance with her,
I'd soon be calling you Poppa."
An extraordinary expression flick
cred briefly in Sam Chatfeld's
round, tanned face. Dwight laughed.
II mean it." insisted Rumble.
ELSA is the SWEETEST little person
I've ever met, and I've been around
quite Bit" He turned abruptly
and glared at Dwight. "What are
you laughing at?" he demanded 81
never was guy to hide what
think and feel If I love Elsa I'm
going to say so. But l know I
haven't got a chance. If Elsa was
my wife, though, I wouldn't be
cheater, like some fellows" He
plunged hand into the pocket of
his brown Stacks and drew forth a
billfold, opened it, took out a hun
dred dollar bank note and dropped
it in front of Dwight. 81 don't want
it," he said.
Dwight Nichols half rose in his
chair; his face had drained of its
color underneath his tan. His fists
were clenched and his lips set tight
An angry light was in his eyes and
the next moment he would have
launched himself upon Rumble, who
continued to sit. scornful look on
his face, glazing at Dwight.
"Gentlemen!" warned Sam Chat
field sharply. Don't forget your
selves"
II haven't" Rumble reminded
him. Dwight sank down into his
seat; his hands dropped trembling
upon the table. "And l suppose"
Rumble continued, preparing to
leave, that you'd rather got out"
He glared about the table as if we
all we're his enemies. well, I'll
CO." He stood up. His eyes caught
the gaze of Rogers. Hunt" he
said, 81 amt got anything against
you. I'm wise to some things
you'd like to know. You want to
know who killed the Chatfeld wom-
an, and who killed Chesebro. I'll
see you later; it'll interest you to
hear what l can tell YOU
Rumble pushed away from. our
table, pulled his enormous black
sombrero down upon his forehead.
and walked through the crowded
bar and out into the right. No one
spoke until the door had closed be-
hind him. Then Sam Chatfield said,
Extraordinary person."
Eyes, isn't he?" Dwight agreed
nervously. He picked up the bank
note, folded it precisely and slipped
it into his pocket. His gaze swept
about to include all of us. He bit
his lips slightly, then said. well,
Rumble has made it necessary for
me to explain something"
mot if you don't feel like doing it,
Dwight" I counseled. He brushed
my remark aside with an impatient
gesture.
"Pn be brief" His voice was
crisp. II was the man who ran
from Kitty Chatfield's house the eve
ming she died-the panicky man
and not Reed Barton. Rumble lied