"Got me," he said as he saw Calumet.
"Who got you?" repeated Calumet.
"Telza."
"Telza?" Calumet bent over him again; the name sounded foreign. "Talk
sense," he said shortly; "who's Telza?"
"A Toltec Indian," said the man. "He's been hangin' around here--for a
month. Around the Arrow, too. Mebbe two months. Nobody knows. He's
like a shadow. Now you see him an' now you don't," he added with a
grim attempt at a joke. "Taggart's had me trailin' him, lookin' for a
diagram he's got."
"Diagram of what?" demanded Calumet. His interest was intense. A
Toltec! Telza was of the race from whom his father and Taggart had
stolen the idol. He leaned closer to the man.
"Are Telza an' Taggart friends?" he asked.
"Friends!" The man's weak laugh was full of scorn. "Taggart's
stringin' him. Telza's lookin' for an idol--all gold an' diamonds, an'
such. Worth thousands. Taggart set Telza on Betty Clayton." The man
choked; his breath came thickly; red stained his lips. "Hell!" he
said, "what you chinnin' me for? Get that damned toad-sticker out of
me, can't you. It's in my side, near the back--I can't reach it."
Calumet felt where the man indicated, and his hand struck the handle of
a knife. It had a large, queerly-shaped handle and a long, thin blade
like a stiletto.
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