I let the question alone, lighting a cigarette. Reno waited a while and then said:

“You better hunt up Ricker and let him get a look at you so’s he’ll know how to describe you if he’s asked.”

A long-legged youngster of twenty-two or so with a thin freckled face around reckless eyes opened the door and came into the room. Reno introduced him to me as Hank O’Marra. I stood up to shake his hand, and then asked Reno:

“Can I reach you here if I need to?”

“Know Peak Murry?”

“I’ve met him, and I know his joint.”

“Anything you give him will get to me,” he said. “We’re getting out of here. It’s not so good. That Tanner lay is all set.”

“Right. Thanks.” I went out of the house.