"I'll be back with yer war-bag in a minute." A few moments
later, he returned to the hotel carrying a leather bag.
"I'm goin' to kind of slip around among the boys a bit. I've be'n
doin' some thinkin' an maybe we can figger a way out. I don't quite
like the way things is shapin' up. I'll be wantin' most likely to see
you in a while----"
"We'll both be here," interrupted Jennie. "_Both_ of us. We'll be in
Number 11."
Outside the hotel the Texan paused to roll and light a cigarette, and
as he blew the smoke from his lungs, he smiled cynically.
"Purdy's work was so damn coarse he got just what was comin' to him.
There's only me an' the pilgrim, now--an' it's me an' him for it. I
ain't plumb got the girl sized up yet. If she's straight--all right.
She'll stay straight. If she ain't---- They say everything's fair in
love an' war, an' bein' as it's my deal the pilgrim's got to go up
against a stacked deck. An' if things works out right, believe me,
he's a-goin' to know he's be'n somewhere by the time he gets back--if
he ever does get back."
For the third time that evening he entered the dance-hall and avoiding
the dancers made his way leisurely toward the bar that ran along one
side of the room.
"Hello, Tex, ain't dancin'? Say, they're tellin' how a pilgrim killed
Jack Purdy.
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