"Well," said Kincaid, "if we see this fellow, we'll nab him for you.

"If you do, stay out of his way and call for reinforcements," Bell said soberly. "He is poison."

"All right, I'm off to bed. Long day. Good night, Mr. Bell," Kincaid said cordially. "Interesting playing cards with you."

"Expensive, too," said Judge Congdon. "What are you going to do with all those winnings, Mr. Bell?"

"I'm going to buy my fiancee a mansion."

"Where?"

"San Francisco. Up on Nob Hill."

"How many survived the earthquake?"

"The one I'm thinking of was built to stand for a thousand years. The only trouble is, it might hold ghosts for my fiancee. It belonged to her former employer, who turned out to be a depraved bank robber and murderer."

"In my experience," Congdon chuckled, "the best way to make a woman comfortable in a previous woman's house is to hand her a stick of dynamite and instruct her to enjoy the process of redecorating. I've done it repeatedly. Works like a charm. That might apply to former employers, too."

Charles Kincaid rose and said good night all around. Then he asked, casually, almost mockingly, "Whatever happened to the depraved bank robber and murderer?"

Isaac Bell looked the Senator in the eye until the Senator dropped his gaze. Only then did the tall detective say, "I ran him to ground, Senator. He won't hurt anyone ever again."

Kincaid responded with a hearty laugh. "The famous Van Dorn motto: 'We never give up."'

"Never," said Bell.

Senator Kincaid, Judge Congdon, and the others drifted off to bed, leaving Bell and Kenny Bloom alone in the observation car. Half an hour later, the train began to slow. Here and there, a light shone in the black night. The outskirts of the town of Rawlins took shape. The Overland Limited trundled through dimly lit streets.

THE WRECKER GAUGED THE train's speed from the platform at the end of the Pullman car that housed his stateroom. Bell's sketch had shaken him far more than his enormous losses at poker. The money meant nothing in the long run, because he would soon be richer than Congdon, Bloom, and Moser combined. But the sketch represented a rare piece of bad luck. Someone had seen his face and described him to an artist. Fortunately, they'd got his ears wrong. And thank God for the resemblance to the movie star. But he could not count on those lucky breaks confusing Isaac Bell for much longer.

He jumped from the slowing train, and set out to explore the dark streets. He had to work fast. The stop was scheduled for only thirty minutes, and he didn't know Rawlins. But there was a pattern to railroad towns, and he believed the flow of luck that had moved against him tonight was shifting his way. For one thing, Isaac Bell's guard was down. The detective was exhilarated by his great fortune at the card table. And it was likely that among the telegraph messages waiting at the depot would be tragic news from Ogden that would throw him for a loop.