If this whore had a future, it looked bleak!
TRAIL OF FEAR
“Saddlebum?” Dant broke in. “Did you catch his name?”
“Yeah, Chris — that’s all the name he gave, this feller. Everybody was talkin’ about it in the saloon afterward—”
“He’s got to have a second name. Everybody has. Was it Belbin?”
“Like I said, friend, nobody knows his other name. Couple men were callin’ him Johnny No-name in the saloon . . .” He paused. “Belbin? Wasn’t that the name of the pard you said you was lookin’ for?”
Dant’s eyes narrowed to slits. It was a long shot, but at least it was some sort of shot, which was more than he’d had up until now.
“Where are you goin’?” the farmer called as Dant dumped money on the counter and headed for the door. “Arrowfield. Sounds like my kind of town.”