"Yer don't need be afeerd o' me,
mam, and the housekeeper be yere directly."
I confess I entered the dim hall reluctantly, obsessed by some strange
premonition of danger, but Mrs. Bernard clung to me, and the sight of
her white face gave me new courage.
CHAPTER XI
A PLEASANT WELCOME
It was an old-fashioned living room into which we entered, the floor
unswept, the chairs faded and patched. Curtains were drawn closely at
the windows, while the single oil lamp stood on a center table littered
with old newspapers. I dropped the grips on the carpet, not so much
interested in my surroundings as in the appearance of the man in
charge. The shading of the light gave me only a partial view of the
fellow, but he was big, loose-jointed, having enormous shoulders, his
face so hidden by a heavy mustache, and low drawn hat brim, I could
scarcely perceive its outline. He appeared a typical rough, wearing
high boots, with an ugly-looking Colt in a belt holster.
"Where are you from?" I asked, surprised at this display of firearms.
"Texas," with a grin, not altogether pleasant. "That's an ol' friend."
"No doubt, but I see no sense in wearing it here. What are you afraid
of?"
He stroked his mustache, eyeing me.
"Wal, personally, stranger, I ain't greatly feerd o' nuthin', but I wus
hired fer to keep people outer this shebang.
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