The following morning at eleven o’clock Johnny and Tony sent their tired ponies across the newfangled concrete bridge which spanned the Humboldt on upper Bridge Street.
Winnemucca lay somnolent in the midday sun, the street so deep with dust that it softened the sound of their horses’ hoofs to a dull pad-pad as they continued on past Rinehart’s general store and the new State Bank building. The two men had ridden all night. In fact, they had put a staggering number of miles behind them since they had left Standing Rock the preceding day.
Johnny swung off his horse in front of the Eldorado Hotel. He had long since decided that he would find Molly registered there. His method of ascertaining this was indeed strange, for, instead of going to the desk where the register lay open to public vi
