Chapter Seven

The First Clue

They did not refer to the incidents of that odd reception in New York until they had located a small hotel for themselves, not three blocks away.  It was no cheaper, but they found a pleasant room, clean and with electric lights.  It was not until they had bathed and were propped up in their beds for a good-night smoke, which cow-punchers love, that Bill Gregg asked:  “And what gave you the tip, Ronicky?”

“I dunno.  In my business you got to learn to watch faces, Bill.  Suppose you sit in at a five-handed game of poker.  One gent says everything with his face, while he’s picking up his cards.  Another gent don’t say a thing, but he shows what he’s got by the way he moves in his chair, or the way he opens and shuts his hands.  When you said something about our wad I seen the taxi driver blink.  Right after that he got terrible friendly and said he could steer us to a friend of his that could put us up for the night pretty comfortable.  Well, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.  Not that I figured anything out.  Just was walking on my toes, ready to jump in any direction.”

As for Bill Gregg, he brooded for a time on what he had heard, then he shook his head and sighed.  “I’d be a mighty helpless kid in this here town if I didn’t have you along, Ronicky,” he said.

“Nope,” insisted Ronicky.  “Long as you use another gent for a sort of guide you feel kind of helpless.  But, when you step off for yourself, everything is pretty easy.  You just were waiting for me to take the lead, or you’d have done just as much by yourself.”

Again Bill Gregg sighed, as he shook his head.  “If this is what New York is like,” he said, “we’re in for a pretty bad time.  And this is what they call a civilized town?  Great guns, they need martial law and a thousand policemen to the block to keep a gent’s life and pocketbook safe in this town!  First gent we meet tries to bump us off or get our wad.  Don’t look like we’re going to have much luck, Ronicky.”

“We saved our hides, I guess.”

“That’s about all.”

“And we learned something.”

“Sure.”

“Then I figure it was a pretty good night.

“Another thing, Bill.  I got an idea from that taxi gent.  I figure that whole gang of taxi men are pretty sharp in the eye.  What I mean is that we can tramp up and down along this here East River, and now and then we’ll talk to some taxi men that do most of their work from stands in them parts of the town.  Maybe we can get on her trail that way.  Anyways, it’s an opening.”

“Maybe,” said Bill Gregg dubiously.  He reached under his pillow.  “But I’m sure going to sleep with a gun under my head in this town!” With this remark he settled himself for repose and presently was snoring loudly.