Yes, sir, I've tamed 'em. They took a lot of
lickin', but now they're tamed. Hello!"
For through the door stalked a newcomer. He paused and cast a curious
eye up the table to Lawlor.
"What the hell!" he remarked naively. "Where's the chief?"
"Fired!" bellowed Lawlor without a moment of hesitation.
"Who fired him?" asked the new man, with an expectant smile, like one
who waits for the point of a joke, but he caught a series of strange
signals from men at the table and many a broad wink.
"I fired him, Gregory," answered Lawlor. "I fired Nash!"
He turned to Bard.
"You see," he said rather weakly, "the boys is used to callin' Nash 'the
chief.'"
"Ah, yes," said Bard, "I understand."
And Lawlor felt that he did understand, and too well.
Gregory, in the meantime, silenced by the mysterious signs from his
fellow cowpunchers, took his place and began eating without another
word. No one spoke to him, but as if he caught the tenseness of the
situation, his eyes finally turned and glanced up the table to Bard.
It was easy for Anthony to understand that glance.
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