But Calumet seemed unconcerned.
"Some gun," remarked Garvey. It was strange, though, that he was not
looking at the weapon at all, or he might have seen the empty chambers.
He was looking at Calumet, and it was apparent that his interest in the
weapon was negative.
"Yes, some," agreed Calumet. He swung around and faced the man,
leaning his left arm carelessly on the bar.
At that instant Denver Ed sauntered over and joined them. He looked
once at Calumet, and then his gaze went to Garvey as he spoke.
"Friend of yourn?" he questioned. There was marked deference in the
manner of Garvey. He politely backed away, shifting his position so
that Denver Ed faced Calumet at a distance of several feet, with no
obstruction between them.
Calumet's eyes met Denver's, and he answered the latter's question,
Garvey having apparently withdrawn from the conversation.
"Friend of _his_?" sneered Calumet, grinning shallowly. "I reckon not;
I'm pickin' my company."
Denver Ed did not answer at once. He moved a little toward Calumet and
shoved his right hip forward, so that the butt of his six-shooter was
invitingly near. Then, with his hands folded peacefully over his
chest, he spoke:
"You do," he said, "you mangy ------!"
There was a stir among the onlookers as the vile epithet was applied.
Pages:
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176