Читать книгу The Saint of the Speedway онлайн
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Cy took his departure without the least ceremony, and it was only the banker’s “So long” that forced common politeness from him. They saw him mount one of the two ponies outside, and they heard the coarse oath with which he urged the weary creature forward. Then came the sound of the heavy slash of a quirt and the horses clattered away.
“A mighty tough proposition,” Burns laughed quietly. “All the gold in that boy’s claim wouldn’t tempt me to try and track him to his hiding-hole. I guess he comes out of the mountains. An’ maybe they’re somewhere across the border—seeing he’s not registered. Well, there it is. Guess it’s no worry of mine. We’re here to collect gold, and I’d say we’ve collected a swell bunch from that boy.”
The teller laughed.
“Guess there’s certainly little else to collect from him, anyway,” he said significantly.
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