of the previous day, the one who had been sitting to the left of Morton Colton and who had dealt the hand from the cold deck. Longarm stood a moment, glancing toward the man. He was middle-aged, with a pleasant face, and was wearing a pinched-back suit coat and a white shirt and collar with a foulard tie. On a whim, Longarm decided to walk over and say hello. The man glanced up as he neared and nodded in a friendly way. Longarm came up to his table and stopped. He said, "Well, look here. It seems we meet again."
The man indicated a chair opposite him with a nod of his head. He said, "I'm about to order breakfast. Would you care to sit down and join me?"
Longarm pulled out a chair and sat down. He said, "Don't mind if I do."
The man stuck out his hand. He said, "The name is Bob Greene, that's green with an e on the end."
Longarm shook the man's hand and gave his name, Custis Long. He said, "Glad to meet you, Mr. Greene. It's a shame we had to be involved in that scruffy business yesterday with Mr. Colton."
Mr. Greene nodded. "Yeah, I can't say that I cared much for that, myself. I'm a peaceful man by nature and don't care much for trouble."
Longarm looked around the dining room. He said, "You staying here at the hotel, Mr. Greene?"
Greene shook his head quickly. "No, Mr. Long, I'm a widower and not much of a hand in the kitchen. I take my breakfast here at the hotel and sometimes my dinner. There's a little cafe down the street, near the bank where I work, where I generally eat the noon meal." Longarm said, "Ah, you're a banker?"
Mr. Greene shrugged. "You might say that. Actually, I was a land speculator before I kind of got in the banking business in a left-handed way. Before that, I was mainly in the timber business."
"So you were in the businesses that needed capital. I guess that's the way you got to know the banking business."
Mr. Greene smiled. "Not many would understand that, Mr. Long. My congratulations."
"Well, without seeming nosy, is that what you do down at the bank? Make loans?"
A little frown flitted across Mr. Greene's face. He said, "Not exactly, Mr. Long. I, well, I sort of advise them on different investments."
Longarm said, "I see." But he didn't really. It was an odd sort of work for someone to advise banks on how to run a bank. At that moment, a waitress came up and their conversation ceased while they ordered. Longarm asked for ham and a half dozen fried eggs with biscuits and brown gravy on the side and coffee and he decided to order a slab of apple pie to top it all off.
Mr. Green looked amused. He was not a very big man, but he was carrying a little extra weight. He said, "Oh, Mr. Long, I remember the days when I could eat like that. Now, with this sour stomach of mine, I've got to be careful. I'm just going to have some soft scrambled eggs and some dry toast."
Longarm nodded sympathetically. "It's a shame when a man's stomach goes to acting up on him. I guess that's the second most tender area a man hates to see put out of business."
Mr. Greene said, "Ain't that the truth."
When the waitress was gone, the thought fluttered through Longarm's mind that Mr. Greene, who appeared tohave been a longtime resident of the Little Rock area, might be a source of information about the whiskey. He intended to pass himself off as a buyer, just as Billy Vail had suggested, and Mr. Greene seemed to be an innocent enough person to begin with. He had no earthly idea if the man would talk to him, but it was certainly worth a try. He intended to ask very openly around town and get some word circulating until someone came up to him and started talking whiskey.
But during the meal, Longarm kept the talk general. At one point, Mr. Greene inquired what business might have brought Longarm to Little Rock. The deputy marshal had sidestepped the question, passing up the opening and giving some inconsequential answer. He had earlier in the conversation described himself as an investor, a man who looked for an