G. Kerry.
"Ah, Sibley," he said, "glad to see you! Anything I can do for you?"
"It's the other way if there's any doing at all," was the quick response.
"Well, let's walk along together," remarked Crozier a little
abstractedly, for he was thinking hard about his great enterprise.
"We might be seen," said Sibley, with an obvious undermeaning meant to
provoke a question.
Crozier caught the undertone of suggestion. "Being about to burgle the
bank, it's well not to be seen together--eh?"
"No, I'm not in on that business, Mr. Kerry. I'm for breaking banks,
not burgling 'em," was the cheerful reply.
They laughed, but Crozier knew that the observant gambling farmer was not
talking at haphazard. They had met on the highway, as it were, many
times since Crozier had come to Askatoon, and Crozier knew his man.
"Well, what are we going to do, and who will see us if we do it?"
Crozier asked briskly.
"Studd Bradley and his secret-service corps have got their eyes on this
street--and on you," returned Sibley dryly.
Crozier's face sobered and his eyes became less emotional. "I don't see
them anywhere," he answered, but looking nowhere.
"They're in Gus Burlingame's office. They had you under observation
while you were in the bank."
"I couldn't run off with the land, could I?" Crozier remarked dryly, yet
suggestively, in his desire to see how much Sibley knew.
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