This much a dozen persons could tell you. Beyond that no man
seemed to know what became of the outfit.
In the bank, the cashier lay back across a desk with a gag in his mouth and
his hands and feet tied, and with a welt on the side of his head that swelled
and bled sluggishly for a while and then stopped and became an angry purple.
Where the gold had been stacked high in the sunshine the marble glistened
whitely, with not so much as a five-dollar piece to give it a touch of color.
The window blinds were drawn down--the bank was closed. And people passed the
windows and never guessed that within there lay a sickly young man who had
craved adventure and found it, and would presently awake to taste its bitter
flavor.
Away off across the mesa, sweltering among the rocks in Bear Canon, Luck
Lindsay panted and sweated and cussed the heat and painstakingly directed his
scenes, and never dreamed that a likeness of his voice had beguiled the
cashier of the Bernalillo County Bank into consenting to be robbed and beaten
into oblivion of his betrayal.
And--although some heartless teller of tales might keep you in the dark about
this--the red automobile, having dodged hurriedly into a high-boarded
enclosure behind a Mexican saloon, emerged presently and went boldly off
across the bridge and up through Atrisco to the sand hills which is the
beginning of the desert off that way.
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