"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 had flashed between them
last night—why had he felt it? There was nothing like that emotion now.
But as Johnny Shannon’s gaze flitted from Topham to the Kentuckian, Drew
was once more aware that, whatever he might outwardly seem, Johnny Shannon
was no boy. Behind that disarmingly youthful façade was another person
altogether.
"Kirby, ain’t it?" Shannon smiled. "Understand I got outta line th’ other
night ... stepped on a lotta toes." That gaze flickered for the merest
instant to the Colts at the Kentuckian’s belt. "I sure had me a real
snootful an’ I guess I was jus’ fightin’ th’ war all over again. No hard
feelin’s?"
That guileless confession was very convincing on the surface. How did you
assess an emotion you did not understand yourself? Drew was teased by a
fleeting memory of the past, of a time when he had faced another pair of
eyes such as those, surface eyes behind which you could see nothing. Then
he became conscious that the pause was too lengthy, and he replied with a
hurry he immediately regretted:
"No hard feelin’s."
This time he was able to recognize the meaning of that quirk of Shannon’s
lips. But prudence controlled the small flare of temper he felt inside
him. It did not really matter. Let Shannon think he was backing down. If
the time ever came that they did have to have a showdown, Johnny Shannon
might be the surprised one.
"You’re sure a trustin’ fella." Shannon’s fingers hooked to the front of
the gun belt riding low on the hip. "Not askin’ for no receipt or
nothin’...."
Topham laughed. "We don’t forget what is due a customer, Johnny." He went
to the desk, scribbled a line on a piece of paper, and held it out to
Drew. "This should meet all contingencies, such as some patron out there
getting downright ornery and putting a couple of extra buttonholes in my
vest by the six-gun slug method."
"Heard tell as how you’re fixin’ to race your plug ’gainst Oro, Kirby,"
Johnny drawled. "Also as how you laid down some good round boys to back
his chance. I took me a piece of them—easy pickin’s." The sneer was
plainer in his voice than it had been in his smile.
Drew’s puzzlement grew. Why was Shannon leaning on him this way? Because
he had stepped in to stop the quirting of Teodoro? That was the only
reason the Kentuckian could think of.
"That’s a matter of opinion." Topham was studying them both with interest.
"I’d say Oro has him some real competition at last. None of the Eclipse
blood was ever backward on the track."
"You ridin’ yourself?" Shannon paid no attention to the gambler’s comment.