XIV

Max

The news of Whisper’s capture spread quickly. When Noonan, the coppers he had brought along, and I took the gambler and the now-conscious Jerry into the City Hall there were at least a hundred people standing around watching us.

All of them didn’t look pleased. Noonan’s coppers⁠—a shabby lot at best⁠—moved around with whitish strained faces. But Noonan was the most triumphant guy west of the Mississippi. Even the bad luck he had trying to third-degree Whisper couldn’t spoil his happiness.

Whisper stood up under all they could give him. He would talk to his lawyer, he said, and to nobody else, and he stuck to it. And, as much as Noonan hated the gambler, here was a prisoner he didn’t give the works, didn’t turn over to the wrecking crew. Whisper had killed the chief’s brother, and the chief hated his guts, but Whisper was still too much somebody in Poisonville to be roughed around.