Kirby’s steady gaze appraised him coolly.  “You’re excited an’ talkin’ foolishness.  I’m not attackin’ anybody’s good name.  I’m lookin’ for the man who killed Uncle James.  I’m expectin’ to find him.  If anybody stands in the way, I’m liable to run against him.”

The man from Twin Buttes bowed toward the black hair and pink ear of his hostess.  He turned on his heel and walked from the room.

CHAPTER XXIII

COUSINS DISAGREE

It was essential to Kirby’s plans that he should be at liberty.  If he should be locked up in prison even for a few days the threads that he had begun to untangle from the snarl known as the Cunningham mystery would again be ensnared.  He was not sure what action James would take at his brother’s demand that he withdraw from the bond.  But Lane had no desire to embarrass him by forcing the issue.  He set about securing a new bond.

He was, ten minutes later, in the law offices of Irwin, Foster & Warren, attorneys who represented the cattle interests in Wyoming with which Kirby was identified.  Foster, a stout, middle-aged man with only a few locks of gray hair left, heard what the rough rider had to say.

“I’ll wire to Caldwell and to Norman as you suggest, Mr. Lane,” he said.  “If they give me instructions to stand back of you, I’ll arrange a new bond as soon as possible.”

“Will it take long?  I can’t afford to be tied up behind the bars right now.”

“Not if I can get it accepted.  I’ll let you know at once.”

Kirby rose.  He had finished his business.

“Just a moment, Mr. Lane.”  Foster leaned back in his swivel-chair and looked out of the window.  His eyes did not focus on any detail of the office building opposite.  They had the far-away look which denotes a preoccupied mind.  “Ever been to Golden?” he asked at last abruptly, swinging back in his seat and looking at his client.

“No.  Why?”

“Golden is the Gretna Green of Denver, you know.  When young people elope they go to Golden.  When a couple gets married and doesn’t want it known they choose Golden.  Very convenient spot.”

“I’m not figuring on gettin’ married right now,” the cattleman said, smiling.

“Still you might find a visit to the place interesting and useful.  I was there on business a couple of weeks ago.”

The eyes of the men fastened.  Lane knew he was being given a hint that Foster did not want to put more directly.

“What are the interestin’ points of the town?” asked the Twin Buttes man.

“Well, sir, there are several.  Of course, there’s the School of Mines, and the mountains right back of the town.  Gold was discovered there somewhere about fifty-seven, I think.  Used to be the capital of the territory before Denver found her feet.”

“I’m rather busy.”

“Wouldn’t take you long to run over on the interurban.”  The lawyer began to gather toward him the papers upon which he had been working when the client was shown in.  He added casually:  “I found it quite amusing to look over the marriage licenses of the last month or two.  Found the names there of some of our prominent citizens.  Well, I’ll call you up as soon as I know about the bond.”