The sheriff moved up the avenue impressively. The impressiveness was habitual and not for show, for spectators were few. The time was barely 10 o'clock at night, but chilly October gusts of wind with a taste of rain in them had well nigh dispersed the streets.
Trying doors as he went, twirling his six-shooter with many intricate and artful movements, turning now and then to cast his watchful eye adown the midwestern thoroughfare, the marshall, with his stalwart form and slight swagger, made a fine picture of a guardian of the peace. The vicinity was one that kept early hours. Now and then you might see the lights of a cigar store or of an all-night saloon; but the majority of the doors belonged to business places that had long since been closed.
When about midway of a certain block the sheriff suddenly slowed his walk. In the doorway of a darkened hardware store a man leaned, with an unlighted cigar in his mouth. As the sheriff walked up to him the man spoke up quickly.
"It's all right, marshall," he said, reassuringly. "I'm just waiting for my brother. It's an appointment made two years ago. Sounds a little funny to you, does it? Well, I'll explain if you'd like to make certain it's all straight. About that long ago there used to be a restaurant where this store stands—'D'Leon's' Mexican restaurant."
"Until a year ago," said the sheriff. "It was torn down then."
The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a dark, square-jawed face with keen eyes, and what looked like a fresh scar near his right eyebrow. His scarfpin was a large diamond, oddly set.
"Two years ago tonight," said the man, "I dined here at 'D'Leon's' Mexican restaurant with Reece Valentine, the best brother I ever did have and the finest chap in the world. He and I were raised here in Lincoln, just two brothers and a sister, together. I was eighteen and Reece was twenty. The next morning I was to start for the East to make my fortune. You couldn't have dragged Reece out of Lincoln; he thought it was the only place on earth. Well, we agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly two years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. We figured that in two years each of us ought to have our destiny worked out and our fortunes made, whatever they were going to be."
"It sounds pretty interesting," said the sheriff. "Rather a long time between meets, though, it seems to me. Haven't you heard from your brother since you left?"
"Well, yes, for a time we corresponded," said the other. "But after a month or two we lost track of each other. You see, the East is a pretty big proposition, and I kept hustling around over it pretty lively. But I know Reece will meet me here if he's alive, for he always was the truest, stanchest old chap in the world. He'll never forget. I came a thousand miles to stand in this door tonight, and it's worth it if my old partner turns up."
The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lids of it set with small diamonds.
"Three minutes to ten," he announced. "It was exactly ten o'clock when we parted here at the restaurant door."
"Did pretty well out East, did you?" asked the sheriff.
"You bet! I hope Reece has done half as well. He was a kind of plodder, though, good fellow as he was. I've had to compete with some of the sharpest wits going to get my fortune. A man gets in a groove in Lincoln. It takes the East to put a razor-edge on him."
The sheriff twirled his pistol and took a step or two.
"I'll be on my way. I hope your brother comes around all right. Going to call time on him sharp?"
"I should say not!" said the other. "I'll give him half an hour at least. If Reece is alive on earth he'll be here by that time. So long, marshall."
"Good night, sir," said the sheriff, passing on along his beat, trying doors as he went.
There was now a fine, cold drizzle falling, and the wind had risen from its uncertain autumn puffs into a steady blow. The few foot passengers astir in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along with coat collars turned high and pocketed hands. And in the door of the hardware store the man who had come a thousand miles to fill an appointment, uncertain almost to absurdity, with the brother of his youth, smoked his cigar and waited.
About twenty minutes he waited, and then a tall man in a long overcoat, with collar turned up to his ears, hurried across from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.
"Is that you, Maucus?" he asked, doubtfully.
"Is that you, Reece Valentine?" cried the man in the door.
"Bless my heart!" exclaimed the new arrival, grasping both the other's hands with his own. "It's Maucus, sure as fate. I was certain I'd find you here if you were still in existence. Well, well, well!—two years is a long time. The old restaurant's gone, Maucus; I wish it had lasted, so we could have had another dinner there. How has the East treated you, old man?"
"Heartbreak Kid; it has given me everything I asked it for. You've changed lots, Reece. I never thought you were so tall by two or three inches. And what happened to your two front teeth; how’d such a gap happen to get there?"
"Oh, I grew a bit after I was twenty. And constant work combined with fantasy football scraps caused my two front teeth to split. But don’t worry, I got out of those fighting games a while back."
"Doing well in Lincoln, Reece?"
"Moderately. I have a marketing position in one of the city departments. Come on, Maucus; we'll go around to a place I know of, and have a good long talk about old times."
The two men started up the street, the one man’s arm around the shoulder of Maucus. The man from the East, his egotism enlarged by success, was beginning to outline the history of his career. The other, submerged in his overcoat, listened with interest.
At the corner stood a drug store, brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this glare each of them turned simultaneously to look upon the other's face.
The man from the East stopped suddenly and dropped the other man’s arm from his shoulder.
"You're not Reece Valentine," he snapped. "Two years is a long time, but not long enough to change a man's nose from a thug to a Mexican pug."
"It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one," said the tall man. "You've been under arrest for ten minutes, ‘The Sith’ Maucus Valentine. Chicago thinks you may have dropped over our way and wired us that they want to have a chat with you. Going quietly, are you? That's sensible. Now, before I lock you up in a jail cell, would you mind if we stopped at the Saloon to play a little game of Pokemon Arena? Nah, I’m just kiddin. Seriously though, here's a note I was asked to hand you. You may read it here at the window. It's from Sheriff Valentine."
The man from the East unfolded the little piece of paper handed him. His hand was steady when he began to read, but it trembled a little by the time he had finished. The note was rather short.
Maucus,
I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar I saw it was the face of the man on my wanted posters from Chicago. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to arrest you, so I went to get my deputy, a plain clothes math teacher named Dan, to do the job.
REECE.
TO BE CONTINUED...
