eBooks Base 2000

Come, now, speak up."
"Yes," acknowledged Enright. "I don't care so much for Westcott, but I
want things kept quiet. There's a newspaperwoman down at the hotel. I
haven't been able to discover yet what she is doing out here, but she's
one of the big writers on the New York _Star_. If she got an inkling
of this affair----"
"Who is she? Not the girl you had that row over, Beaton?"
The gunman nodded.
"She's the one."
"Do you suppose Jim Westcott knew her before? He brought her to the
hotel and was mighty touchy about her."
"Hell, no; she told me all about that--why she cut that fellow dead in
the dining-room when he tried to speak to her the next day."
Lacy whistled a few bars, his hands thrust deep into his
trouser-pockets. Then, after a few minutes' cogitation, he resumed:
"All right then; we'll take it as it lies. The only question
unsettled, Enright, is--what is all this worth to me?"


CHAPTER XV: MISS LA RUE PAYS A CALL
Some slight noise caused Westcott to straighten up, and turn partially
around.


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