But you're
mistaken in one thing. I'm not your host. This gentleman behind
you is."
The man turned and saw Bucky, who was standing with his back
against the door, a bland smile on his face.
"Yes, seh. I'm your host to-night. Sheriff Collins, hyer, is
another guest. I'm glad to have the pleasure of entertaining you,
Signor Raffaello Cavellado," Bucky assured him, in his slow,
gentle drawl, without reassuring him at all.
For the fellow was plainly disconcerted at recognition of his
host. He turned with a show of firmness to Collins. "If you're a
sheriff, I demand to have that door opened at once," he
blustered.
Val put his hands in his pockets and tipped back his chair. "I
ain't sheriff of Hualpai County. My jurisdiction don't extend
here," he said calmly.
"I'm an unarmed man," pleaded Cavellado.
"Come to think of it, so am I."
"I reckon I'm holding all the aces, Signor Cavellado," explained
the ranger affably. "Or do you prefer in private life to be
addressed as Hardman--or, say, Anderson?"
The showman moistened his lips and offered his tormentor a
blanched face.
"Anderson--a good plain name.
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