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By Root 719 0

of the bar. Hooked his boot heel on the rail and leaned on one elbow with the unconscious practice of long habit and said, “Provo’s got to promise them something. Otherwise he can’t keep them together—he can’t keep his eye on that many of them twenty-four hours a day. If a man wants to get clear of the law and drop out of sight, it’s a lot easier to do with money. Buy good clothes that fit you right, pay for a Pullman compartment, stay over in expensive hotels—the law’s not going to be looking for them in places like that. Buy a first-class passage on a steamer for Shanghai or Sydney or Capetown, or take a train down to Galveston and ship out for Lisbon or Marseille. That’s the way to get free, but it takes money.”

“Go on, Captain.”

“Nine men. They’ve got to get their hands on a sizable pile of cash if it’s going to split nine ways and still look impressive. They won’t find that kind of money in the till of a general store in some whistle-stop. Provo’s got to come up with fifteen or twenty thousand dollars to make those convicts sit up and listen. Otherwise he loses them.”

“I’m startin’ to get your drift now.”

“Bait,” Burgade said. “Why not give them something to shoot for?”

“Spell it out, what you got in mand.”

“Suppose we set up a fake story about a big shipment of cash arriving in the Tucson bank from the Denver mint. Get the story on the front page of all the newspapers this afternoon and make sure the newspapers are delivered to every crossroads store and whistle-stop in southern Arizona.”

Nye chugged his beer down. The mug had left a wet ring on the bar. He set it down carefully on the ring. “I don’t know, Captain. Take the lid off that kand of honey jar and a lot of flies bound to come swarming around besides Zach Provo. We could end up with the whole town full of bank robbers.”

“When you use a net you’re bound to pull in a lot of innocent fish. If they’re too small you just throw them back in the water, Noel. And if they’re big enough and guilty enough then you’ve got a bonus.”

“Provo ain’t stupid. He sees some story about a big shipment of cash money, he’ll have to expect it’s gonna be protected. He might even figure it for a trap.”

“Naturally. So let’s give him a little extra bait. Put in the story that the money’s coming in—oh, say, Friday morning maybe, on an armed westbound train. That ought to give Provo time to see the story, a few days to get over here to Tucson and get his crowd set up for it. And put in the story that the money’s going to be trucked from the depot to the bank under guard. With me heading up the guard detail.”

“You?”

Burgade finished his beer and ascetically cleaned the foam from his lips with a bar napkin. “Me. I’m the man killed Zach Provo’s wife. I doubt that’s slipped his mind. Quite the reverse. I imagine he’s had nothing to brood about except that, and nothing much to do except brood about it. Offer Zach Provo a chance to kill me and he’ll jump at it.”

“Oh sure. And you’ll get dead. I don’t like the price of that, Captain.”

“I’ll have a little advantage, Noel. I’ll know he’s coming. I’ll be looking for him.”

“But you’re—” Nye didn’t finish the sentence and it was pretty clear what he had meant to say: But you’re an old man.

“I’ve handled Zach Provo before,” Burgade said stiffly. “I can do it again.”

“But it ain’t your job, Captain.”

“I’m offering to make it my job.” For God’s sake can’t you see how much I want this chance?

Nye stirred. He rubbed a hand abrasively over his ugly face. “I don’t know, Captain. I’ll have to thank on it.”

“Don’t take too long. The papers are going to press.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Provo’s too smart to get caught unless we bait him into it. You know that.”

“Aeah. Reckon I do. But I ain’t sure he’s worth catchin’ if it’s at the expense of your life.”

“Let me worry about that,” Sam Burgade said.

Nothing to do now but wait. Sweat it out and see if Provo swallowed the hook. Burgade walked home shortly before noon, taking his time in the heat. Big trees arched the street, throwing patterns of shade, and the stately old Spanish houses clung