wrong.â
âIs she?â said Silver.
His eyes fastened on the face of Taxi. It was not a long look, but it took hold of Taxi like a hand, and he felt the tug of it. His own pale eyes opened wide against his will.
He looked aside hastily.
âSheâs all wrong,â said Taxi. âIâm only here because I want to look up some things for a friend of mine.â
âAnd youâre trying to find a health resort, too, she tells me,â said Silver.
He was smiling. There was something about his smile that made Taxi want to smile, too. There was a reassuring geniality about it. It met one like the grip of a friendly hand, and hung on, and kept hanging on. Not even a child would mind being understood and smiled at by this big fellow.
âIâve got to build myself up a little, the doctors say,â said Taxi.
He saw the glance of Silver take hold of him and probe and weigh him as though he were stripped in the gymnasium. Suddenly, fervently, Taxi hoped that all the men out here in the West were not like this â that Charlie Larue, above all, was not like Silver.
âThis is a good place to build yourself up,â said Silver. âBut only if youâve got the right sort of a constitution to stand the air. The air here is bad for a lot of people. It was bad for your friend Feeley, for instance. Excuse me â I forgot that heâs not your friend.â
Taxi said nothing. It seemed to him a good time to say nothing at all, so he smiled a little and kept his lips sealed.
The big man went on talking. He said: âIâm going to give you some information, in case it might be useful. You know Barry Christian?â
âNo,â said Taxi. âWait a minute!â
For his mind was catching at something vague, nebulous, distant. It
was
a name that he had heard before the girl used it. Somewhere in the back of his brain he knew about that name.
âPrison break,â said Taxi suddenly.
âThatâs it,â said Silver. âAnd a lot of other things. Nobody knows the story of Barry Christian, but everybody knows enough about it to fill a book. Christian is one of those fellows who knows how to make other people work for him. You understand? Charlie Larue, for instance, works for Barry Christian.â
Taxi listened, with his eyes veiled, but he kept wanting to look up and meet the frankness of this big stranger.
Silver went on: âWe donât know where Barry Christian is. But we know where a good many of his men are. We never can hang anything on them. Not very often, that is. But we have an idea about who are the men of Barry Christian. Heâs so big, Ivors, that a great many fairly honest fellows are not ashamed to work for him. He sticks by his friends. When one of his men is caught by trouble, Christian opens his purse wide.
âIf you touch one of Christianâs men, you touch the body of a giant. The whole body turns on you â that is to say, the whole of Christianâs gang. And you canât tell where youâll find his friends. Your bartender may be on the pay roll of Christian. The ranch you stop at overnight may be owned by a fellow in Christianâs pay. The fellow you hire to punch cows may be a Christian man. Barry Christian has his hand everywhere, and the first thing we learn is to fight shy of a man who belongs to Christian.â
He paused, and then added: âThis may mean nothing to you, Ivors. But, just in case you want to tell the mutual friend of you and Mr. Joe Feeley, you might write to him that itâs a good idea to keep hands off Charlie Larue.â
âThanks,â said Taxi. He added: âNo matter whether youâre right or wrong about what I have on my mind, Iâm thanking you.â
He followed another impulse which seldom came to him. He stepped up close and gripped the hand of Silver. He lifted his head, and looked with his pale hazel eyes straight into the hazel eyes of