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The Spider had no means of knowing of the back room and thought that Baxter had sent him to a chance number to get rid of him; or that the latter would possibly suggest that White-Eye must have left the neighborhood. "Is there a back stairs to Pony's place?" queried The Spider as he stood by the cab. "No. But there's a fire-escape in the alley back of the block.
It was Pony Baxter who gave the names of the dead gunmen to the police, confirming the records of White-Eye, Pino, Longtree, and Jim Ewell known as The Spider. The identity of the fourth man, he of the deformed shoulder and shriveled arm, was unknown to Baxter.
Any time " "Any time you git The Spider's roll, you got to git him," asserted another member of this nocturnal quartette, a man whose right arm and shoulder sagged queerly. "The Spider ain't no kid, neither," and White-Eye paused at the dimly lighted stairway entrance. The man with the deformed shoulder cursed White-Eye. The others laughed.
Pony Baxter seemed mighty anxious to get those two bits of paper out of sight. White-Eye had seen him drop them in the drawer as he opened it. "Where did you send The Spider?" asked White-Eye quickly. "Send him! Didn't send him anywhere. He said he was going back to his hotel." White-Eye blinked. He knew that The Spider was not stopping at a hotel. For some reason Baxter had lied.
To the regular habitues of the place, White-Eye and his companions were simply "rough-necks" to whom Baxter was showing "the joint." Presently Baxter excused himself and, telling his visitors to make themselves at home, strode back to his office. White-Eye and Pino watched the wheel, while the man with the deformed shoulder and his companion stood watching the faro game.
From the general conversation at the table that evening Pete gathered that queer visitors came to this place frequently. It was a kind of isolated, halfway house between the border and Showdown. He heard the name of "Scar-Face," "White-Eye," "Sonora Jim," "Tio Verdugo," a rare assortment of border vagabonds known by name to the cowboys of the high country. The Spider was frequently mentioned.
When confronted with the torn slip of paper on which was written the address of White-Eye, Baxter admitted that he knew of the rendezvous of the gunmen, but refused to explain why he had their address in his possession, and he put a quietus on that phase of the situation by asking the police why they had not raided the place themselves before the shooting occurred, as they seemed to have known of it for several months.
"I was thinking the same of you; always playing safe. You ought to know better than to pull a bluff like that on me. But if that is your game, I call. I want White-Eye." Pony Baxter had plenty of nerve. But he knew The Spider. "I haven't seen White-eye for over three years," he said, turning to his desk. He tore a memorandum slip from a pad and wrote something on it and handed it to The Spider.
Suddenly White-Eye coughed and staggered against the table. With his last shot The Spider dropped White-Eye, then jerked a second gun from his waistband. Gary, kneeling behind the faro table, fired over its top. The Spider whirled half-round, recovered himself, and, sidling toward the table, threw down on the kneeling man, who sank forward coughing horribly.
As was stated above, all arboreal gregarious birds have this habit. It is by means of this call note that they keep each other apprised of their whereabouts. But for such a signal it would scarcely be possible for the flock to hold together. At the breeding season the cock white-eye acquires an unusually sweet song.
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