“Sit down, Jim.”

The Spider pulled up a chair.  “About that last deposit—­”

The president thrust his hand into a pigeon-hole and handed The Spider a slip of paper.

“So he got here with the cash before they nailed him?” And The Spidery face expressed surprise.

“The money came by express—­local shipment.  I tried to keep it out of the papers.  None of their dam’ business.”

“I’m going to close my account,” stated The Spider.

“Going south?”

“No.  I got some business in town.  After that—­”

“You mean you’ve got no business in town.  Why didn’t you write?”

“You couldn’t handle it.  Figure up my credit—­and give me a draft for it, I’ll give you my check.  Make it out to Peter Annersley,” said The Spider.

“One of your gunmen, eh?  I see by the papers he’s got a poor chance of using this.”

“So have I,” and The Spider almost smiled.

Hodges pushed back his chair.  “See here, Jim.  You’ve got no business in this town and you know it!  And you’ve got enough money to keep you comfortable anywhere—­South America, for instance.  Somebody’ll spot you before you’ve been here twenty-four hours.  Why don’t you let me call a taxi—­there’s a train south at eleven-thirty.”

“Thanks, E.H.—­but I’m only going over to the hospital.”

“You sure will, if you stick around this town long.”

“I’m going to see that boy through,” said The Spider.

“Then you’re not after any one?”

“No, not that way.”

“Well, you got me guessing.  I thought I knew you.”

“Mebby, Ed. Now, if the boy comes through all right, and I don’t, I want you to see that he gets this money.  There’s nobody in town can identify him but me—­and mebby I won’t be around here to do it.  If he comes here and tells you he’s Pete Annersley and that The Spider told him to come, hand him the draft.  ’Course, if things go smooth, I’ll take care of that draft myself.”

“Making your will, Jim?”

“Something like that.”

“All right.  I might as well talk to the moon.  I used to think that you were a wise one—­”

“Just plain dam’ fool, same as you, E.H.  The only difference is that you’re tryin’ to help me out—­and I aim to help out a kid that is plumb straight.”

“But I have some excuse.  If it hadn’t been for you when I was down south on that Union Oil deal—­”

“Ed, we’re both as crooked as they make ’em, only you play your game with stocks and cash, inside—­and I play mine outside, and she’s a lone hand.  This kid, Pete, is sure a bad hombre to stack up against—­but he’s plumb straight.”

“You seem to think a whole lot of him.”

“I do,” said The Spider simply.

The president shook his head.  The Spider rose and stuck out his hand.  “So-long, Ed.”

“So-long, Jim.  I’ll handle this for you.  But I hate like hell to think it’s the last time I can handle a deal for you.”