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Chapter 12
I’d no idea the time when I heard my name spoken. Then came a slap on the back and there was Frank, fresh faced and wide eyed. Just bathed or just f****d? I wondered. “Where’s Merle?” I asked, finding myself somewhat reeling from the liquor. “Cards at McDermott’s. He’s still got some money left.” “How much did you get on that last job?” Although I knew the answer, having been told by Whitlock, I wanted to head the conversation toward robbing. “Eight thousand, which is two each. Plenty for a man not given to gambling.” “You mean you save yours?” He grinned. “In a Denver bank. I allow myself to spend some, but the rest I send there. One day I want to buy a spread, raise horses.” “Whereabouts?” “Wyoming, I think. Or maybe California. Someplace green.” I had to chuckle. “You’re the fi
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