Close
beside him Tex Benton's horse dozed with drooping head. Swiftly a hand
whose palm concealed an open jack-knife slipped beneath the Texan's
right stirrup-leather and a moment later was withdrawn as the cayuse,
suspicious of the fumbling on the wrong side of the saddle, snorted
nervously and sheered sharply against another horse which with an angry
squeal, a laying back of the ears, and a vicious snap of the teeth,
resented the intrusion. Purdy jerked sharply at the reins of his own
horse which caused that animal to rear back and pull away.
"Whoa, there! Yeh imp of hell!" he rasped, in tones loud enough to
account for the commotion among the horses, and slipping the knife into
his pocket, entered the saloon from which he emerged unobserved while
the boisterous crowd was refilling its glasses at the solicitation of a
white goods drummer who had been among the first to accept the
invitation of the Mayor.
Three doors up the street he entered a rival saloon where the bartender
was idly arranging his glasses on the back-bar in anticipation of the
inevitable rush of business which would descend upon him when the
spirit should move the crowd in the Long Horn to start "going the
rounds."
"Hello, Cinnabar!" The cowpuncher leaned an elbow on the bar, elevated
a foot to the rail, and producing tobacco and a book of brown papers,
proceeded to roll a cigarette.
Pages:
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56