So he merely
lighted his cigarette and seemed to have heard nothing.
"The whole town," he remarked casually, "seems scared stiff by this
Butch; but of course he ain't comin' back to-night."
"I suppose," said the tenderfoot, after a cold pause, "that he will
not."
But the coldness reacted like the most genial warmth upon Nash. He had
chosen a part detestable to him but necessary to his business. He must
be a "gabber" for the nonce, a free talker, a chatterer, who would cover
up all pauses.
"Kind of strange to ride into a dark town like this," he began, "but I
could tell you a story about--"
"Oh, Steve," called the voice of Sally from the kitchen.
He rose and nodded to Bard.
"'Scuse me, I'll be back in a minute."
"Thanks," answered the other, with a somewhat grim emphasis.
In the kitchen Sally spoke without prelude. "What deviltry are you up to
now, Steve?"
"Me?" he repeated with eyes widened by innocence. "What d'you mean,
Sally?"
"Don't four-flush me, Steve."
"Is eating in your place deviltry?"
"Am I blind?" she answered hotly.
Pages:
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147