Taggart was deeply amused; he guffawed loudly.
"That's rich," he said. "Why, man, I've knowed her ever since she's
been here. Me an' her's pretty well acquainted. In fact--"
"Well, now; that's odd," cut in Calumet dryly.
"What is?" questioned Taggart quickly, noting his tone.
"That I didn't remember," said Calumet.
"Remember what?" inquired Taggart.
"That I heard you gassin' about Betty to your Red Dog friends. You
rattled it off pretty glibly. You ought to remember what you said.
I'm wantin' you to repeat it while she's watchin' you. That's why I
wanted you to come over here."
"Why--" began Taggart. Then he hesitated, an embarrassed, incredulous
light in his shifting eyes. He looked from one to the other, not
seeming to entirely comprehend the significance of the command, and
then he saw the gleam in Betty's eyes, the derisive enjoyment in
Dade's, the implacable glint in Calumet's, knowledge burst upon him in
a sudden, sickening flood and his face paled. He looked at Calumet,
the look of a trapped animal.
"Get goin'!" said the latter; "we're all waitin'."
Taggart cursed profanely, stepping back a pace and reaching for his
pistol. But as in the Red Dog, Calumet was before him. Again his
right hand moved with the barely perceptible motion, and his
six-shooter was covering Taggart.
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