“Howdy. Didja ever learn to roll ’em with one hand?”
“Never tried it,” smiled Moran. “Looks easy.”
“Yeah, it does,” admitted Kaintuck. “Like catchin’ counterfeiters.”
“That’s right,” laughed Moran. “Mebbe you’ve got an idea how to catch
’em, Kennedy.”
“Uh-huh. Use the same scheme that ‘Frenchy’ Le Blanc used. He was
runnin’ a sort of a store up in the Bitter Roots, and he does a credit
business. Frenchy don’t know one figure from another; so he figures out
a lot of funny marks that mean so-and-so owes him a certain amount.
“He writes all these funny marks on a board, and when he collects all
his debts, he planes the board off and starts in all over again. One day
he sells somebody a case of aigs, and forgets who it is.
“So at the end of the month he charges up one case of aigs to everybody
that deals with him. He had three fights before he hit the right party,
but he got paid for his aigs—four times. Now, my idea would be to arrest
everybody in Moon River Valley that had one of them bad dollars in their
pocket.”
“You’d probably get into a lot of trouble,” laughed Moran.
“Yeah—” dryly. “And you’d probably get a —— of a lot of criminals, too.”
“Kaintuck is a pessimist,” grinned Skeeter. “He never sees any good in
anythin’.”
“Only when I look in the mirror, Skeeter. Say, Moran, is all them
dollars the same date?”
“No. They’ve made several molds. Most of ’em are from 1899 to 1906. I’m
expectin’ you boys to keep all this under your hats, of course.”
“Sure thing,” nodded Skeeter. “It’s somethin’ I don’t know a danged
thing about. I dunno how they’d go ahead to make the money; but I’m
takin’ yore word for it, Moran. Quite likely they’ll object to bein’
caught, eh?”
“Uncle Sam does not deal lightly with counterfeiters.”
“You’ve been takin’ a big chance—workin’ alone.”
“We have to take a chance.” Moran got to his feet. “If it was known who
I am, I wouldn’t last a week. I am lettin’ you in on this, Sheriff,
because I need help, and because of another reason. Here.”