He's the only one I know
around these parts who owns a Hammond. Come to think, though, his car is
gray."

"He's probably had it painted lately," suggested Stratton quietly. "Much
obliged. I thought I'd seen him before some place."

CHAPTER XXVII

AN HOUR TOO LATE

"I had an idea that's who it was when you described him," said Sheriff
Hardenberg, to whom Stratton returned at once with the news. "There's only
one 'Paul' around here who fits the bill, and he sure does to
perfection."

"Who is he?" asked Buck curiously.

Hardenberg's eyes narrowed. "The slickest piece of goods in the State of
Arizona, I'd say. He's been mixed up in more crooked deals than any man I
ever ran up against; but he's so gol-darn cute nobody's ever been able to
catch him with the goods."

"He sure don't look it," commented Stratton. "With that baby stare of his
and--"

"I know," interrupted the sheriff. "That's part of his stock in trade;
it's pulled many a sucker. He's got a mighty convincing way about him,
believe me! He can tell the damnedest bunch of lies, looking you straight
in the eyes all the time, till you'd swear everything he said was gospel.
But his big specialty is egging somebody else on to do the dirty work, and
when the dangerous part is over, he steps in and hogs most of the
profits. He's organized fake mining companies and stock companies. Last
year he got up a big cattle-raising combine, persuaded three or four men
over in the next county to pool their outfits, and issued stock for about
three times what it was worth. It busted up, of course, but not before
he'd sold a big block to some Eastern suckers and got away with the
proceeds."

"I'd think that would have been enough to land him."

"You would, wouldn't you?" returned Hardenberg with a shrug. "But the
law's a tricky business sometimes, and he managed to shave the line just
close enough to be safe. Well, it looks as if we had a chance of bagging
him at last," he added in a tone of heartfelt satisfaction.

"Going to arrest him before we start for the Shoe-Bar?" asked Buck.

Hardenberg laughed shortly. "Hell, no! You don't know Paul Draper if you
think he could be convicted on your statement, unsupported by witnesses.
Believe me, by this time he's doped out an iron-clad alibi, or something,
and we wouldn't have a chance. But if one of the Shoe-Bar gang should turn
State's evidence, that's another matter."

"Aren't you afraid he may beat it if you let