The Silver Tombstone

Chapter Six

The Manhattan was less than a mile from the Fremont, but Johnny Fletcher was in an expansive mood. He took a taxi and when he reached the Manhattan got involved in a complicated business of obtaining change for a fifty dollar bill. By the time the taxi bill was settled a good number of the employees of the hotel — as well as some guests in the lobby — were aware that an important man had arrived. A man who had nothing smaller than fifty dollar bills.

The clerk violated a hotel rule by giving Johnny the number of Miss Helen Walker’s room.

Johnny knocked on the door of her room on the fifth floor. It was opened by the girl from New York... whose flat tire Sam Cragg had changed on the road from San Bernardino.

She recognized Johnny and her blue eyes flashed sparks.

“Hello,” Johnny said lamely.

She started to close the door in his face, but couldn’t for Johnny’s bookselling technique was ever with him and he got his foot in the door. Helen Walker promptly kicked his shin. Johnny exclaimed in pain but put his shoulder to the door and pushed.

It was opened suddenly and Johnny practically fell into the arms of a tall, lean young man of about thirty.

The man grabbed Johnny by the shoulder. “Here, you, what’re you trying to do?”

Sam Cragg crowded in behind Johnny, squeezed past him and knocked the tall man’s hand from Johnny. “Easy does it, chum!”

The man blocking the door called back into the room. “Call the desk!”

“Now, wait a minute,” Johnny said quickly. “Let’s talk this thing over.”

“There’s nothing to talk about!” exclaimed the tall man. “You’re trying to break into this room and—”

“Let them in, Mike,” said Helen Walker.

Mike hesitated then retreated into the room. Johnny and Sam followed — and discovered that there was still another person in the room; a girl about the same age as Helen Walker and just about as pretty although in a more outdoorsy way. She was dark; hair almost black and skin tanned by a thousand suns.

“All right,” said Helen Walker. “Let’s have it — or I will call the manager.”

“First,” said Johnny, “I want to apologize for the joke I perpetrated on you yesterday.” He reached into his pocket and brought out some money. Extracting a dollar and a quarter he extended it to Helen Walker.

Her lips parted. “What’s that for?”

“The joke. You didn’t think I was serious in asking you to pay for changing that tire?”

She said sharply. “Now listen...”

“Ha-ha-ha,” Johnny laughed. “When I saw your New York license I was so tickled to see someone from home I couldn’t resist pulling that corny joke. Then, when I saw that you hadn’t gotten it, I tried to explain but you went off too quickly...”

“Say!” exclaimed the man known as Mike. “Are these those two hoboes you were telling us about?”

“Hoboes!” cried Sam.

“They’re the ones,” said Helen Walker.

Johnny shook his head sadly. “See — that’s what a joke’ll do. A hobo!” He sighed wearily. “Let’s start at the beginning. My name is Johnny Fletcher and this is Sam Cragg.”

Mike glared at Johnny. But the sun-tanned girl suddenly held out her hand. “I’m Laura Henderson and Fm glad to know you, Johnny Fletcher.”

“Likewise,” said Johnny, taking the girl’s hand.

“And Mike is my brother,” Laura went on.

Mike Henderson ignored Johnny’s proffered hand. “All right,” he said, “just for the sake of argument, let’s call it a joke. Now, is there anything else you’ve got to say? Or do I have to throw you both out?”

“Try it,” growled Sam.

“Well,” said Johnny. “I was hoping to talk privately to Miss Walker... about the Silver Tombstone...”

“What do you know about the Silver Tombstone?” gasped Helen Walker.

“I’d like to buy it.”

Helen Walker looked at Mike Henderson. Henderson nodded. “What do you know about the Silver Tombstone?” he demanded.

“I want to buy it.”

“This is too much for me,” Helen Walker said and seated herself suddenly.

“Where’d you hear about the Silver Tombstone?” Henderson asked harshly.

“Do I have to tell that?” Johnny looked innocently at Henderson. “When you go into a grocery store to buy some oranges the man doesn’t ask you where you heard about oranges...”

“This is no time for clowning, Fletcher,” Henderson said, through clenched teeth. “Only about four people know about the Silver Tombstone and I want to know...”

“Who’re the four?”

Henderson made a savage gesture. “We’re not going to get anywhere that way.”

“No,” Johnny admitted. He looked down at Helen Walker. “I am prepared to pay you three thousand dollars for the Silver Tombstone...”

“A hobo,” Laura said suddenly. “A hobo with three thousand dollars. This is getting interesting.”

“I’m not interested in selling — anything,” Helen Walker said evenly.

“That’s final?”

“Definitely.”

Johnny sighed. “Too bad. I’ve always wanted to own a silver mine.... My the way, you didn’t happen to stop the night before last at a motel in San Bernardino — a place called El Toreador?”

Helen Walker sat very still for a moment, then she stood up. “What are you driving at?”

“Nothing, particularly. Only we stopped there ourselves that night and along about one A.M someone screamed in the cabin next to ours — a woman...”

“Get out of here!”

“That’s all,” said Mike Henderson firmly.

“Okay, Buster,” Johnny said, laconically. He signaled to Sam Cragg.

“Buster,” repeated Laura Henderson. “I must remember that.”

Johnny grinned. “I’ll give you a ring sometime, Miss Henderson.”

Sam passed out into the hall. Johnny followed more leisurely, but the slamming door almost hit him.