"My name is Collins."
"Sheriff of Pica County?"
"Yes."
The eyes of the men met like rapiers, as steady and as searching
as cold steel. Each of them was appraising the rare quality of
his opponent in this duel to the death that was before him.
"What are you doing here? Ain't Pica County your range?"
"I've been discussing with your friend the late hold-up on the
Transcontinental Pacific."
"Ah!" Leroy knew that the sheriff was serving notice on them of
his purpose to run down the bandits. Swiftly his mind swept up
the factors of the situation. Should he draw now and chance the
result, or wait for a more certain ending? He decided to wait,
moved by the consideration that even if he were victorious the
lawyers were sure to draw out of the fat-brained Scott the cause
of the quarrel.
"Well, that don't interest me any, though I suppose you have to
explain a heap how come they to hold you up and take your gun.
I'll leave you and your jelly-fish Scott to your gabfest. Then
you better run back home to Tucson. We don't go much on visiting
sheriffs here." He turned on his heel with an insolent laugh, and
left the sheriff alone with Dailey.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158