"It's
logical enough too--but if the girl's started out alone, time is
precious."
Halloway had straightened out of his doleful uncertainty. Plans were
swiftly taking shape in his mind.
"No. You've been there once. If you went back it's just possible that
into the fellow's dull mind might steal a ghost of suspicion. I'm
ready to take my turn now, though I hate the damned inactivity. I am a
presumed illiterate. I struggle over the printed page--and with me
loafing in his office he would chat away over his wire undisturbed."
"And what shall I be doing?"
"There'll be enough to keep you busy, I should say. Get in touch with
any of the bank employes you can locate. Try to learn whether or not
Alexander has actually started. Have Lute watched and see with whom he
talks. Get together a dozen men we can trust at a pinch. Have them
ready, if necessary, to take the saddle on a moment's notice. It may
come down to a race over the trail."
Brent's face fell.
"With my limited acquaintance," he objected, "how in God's name am I to
pick such men?"
"No man who looked into the dog-like eyes of young Bud Sellers,"
asserted Halloway, "could doubt that he'd give his life for that girl.
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