The Carpetbaggers

8

Harry Richards, chief of the studio police, was in the booth when Nevada drove into the main gate of the studio. He came out of the booth, his hand outstretched. "Mr. Smith. It's great to see you again."

Nevada returned his smile, pleased by the man's obvious warmth. He shook his hand. "Good to see you again, Harry."

"It's been a long time," Richards said.

"Yeah." Nevada smiled. "Seven years." The last time he'd been at the studio was just after The Renegade had been released, in 1930. "I’ve got an appointment with Dan Pierce."

"He's expecting you," Richards said. "He's in Norman's old office."

Nevada nodded. He shifted into gear and Richards stepped back from the car. "I hope everything works out, Mr. Smith. It would be like old times having you back."

Nevada smiled and turned the car down the road to the executive building. One thing, at least, hadn't changed around the studio. There were no secrets. Everybody knew what was going on. They obviously knew more than he did. All he knew was what he'd read in Dan's telegram.

He'd come in from the range and found it lying on the table in the entranceway. He picked it up and ripped it open quickly.

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