"
"Listens fine," the girl retorted bitterly. "I take Jim like some
folks do booze or dope. He's a habit."
"Tim's worth a dozen of him."
"Sure he is, but Tim's got a notion I'm not on the level. I dunno as
he needs to pull that stuff on me. I'm not strong for a harness bull
anyhow." She laughed, a little off the key.
"What color is 'Slim' Jim's car?"
"A dirty blue. Why?"
"That was the car."
Annie lifted her hands in a little gesture of despair. "I'm dead sick
of this game. What's there in it? I live straight and eat in a
beanery. No lobster palaces in mine. Look at me cheap duds. And Tim
gives me the over like I was a street cat. What sort of a chance did I
ever have, with toughs and gunmen for me friends?"
"You've got yore chance now, Annie. Tim will hop off that fence he's
on and light a-runnin' straight for you if he thinks you've ditched
'Slim' Jim."
She shook her head slowly. "No, I'll not t'row Jim down. I'm through
with him. He lied to me right while he knew this was all framed up.
But I wouldn't snitch on him, even if he'd told me anything. And he
didn't peep about what he was up to."
"Forget Jim while you're thinkin' about this. You don't owe Jerry
Durand anything, anyhow. Where would he have Kitty taken? You can
give a guess."
She had made her decision before she spoke. "Gimme paper and a pencil."
On Clay's notebook she scrawled hurriedly an address.
"Jim'd croak me if he knew I'd given this," she said, looking straight
at the cattleman.
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