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There was something gruesome, uncanny, about the way her fingers went their own way over the defenceless keys. Her conversation with the frowzy little girl went on. "Wha'd he say?" "Oh, he laffed." "Well, didja go?" "Me! Well, whutya think I yam, anyway?" "I woulda took a chanst." The fat man rebelled. "Look here! Get busy! What are you paid for? Talkin' or playin'? Huh?"
You didn't tink I was bashful didja? Wot fer did you detail dem two pikers, Miller and Swenson, to guard de skirt fer if it wasn't fer some special frame-up of yer own? Dey never been in our gang, and dats just wot you wanted 'em fer. It was easy to tip dem off to hike out wid de squab, and de first chanct you get you'll hike after dem, while we hold de bag.
Where you going?" "Oh, Ray, aren't you fun-ny! You know this is the Crowd's poker night at Lil's." The Crowd began to say that old Ray was going queer. Honestly, didja hear him last week? Talking about the instability of the home, and the home being the foundation of the state, and the country crumbling? Cora's face was a sight! I wouldn't have wanted to be in his boots when she got him home.
"And what didja think I'd be doin' alla time?" grinned Swing Tunstall. "You wouldn't 'a' tried to knife me, anyway." "G'on. He didn't." "Oh, didn't he? You better believe he did. If I hadn't got a holt of his wrist and whanged him over the head with my Colt for all I was worth he'd 'a' had me laid out cold. Yep, li'l Mr. Luke Tweezy himself.
There was something gruesome, uncanny, about the way her fingers went their own way over the defenseless keys. Her conversation with the frowzy little girl went on. "Wha'd he say?" "Oh, he laffed." "Well, didja go?" "Me! Well, whutya think I yam, anyway?" "I woulda took a chanst." The fat man rebelled. "Look here! Get busy! What are you paid for? Talkin' or playin'? Huh?"
"I wonder if he did kill Bull." "I wonder, too. Didja know who Bull really was, Swing?... Marie's brother. Yep, she told me about it yesterday." "Her own brother, huh? That's a odd number. Alla same I'll bet she don't miss him much." "Nor Nebraska, neither. He'll never come back to bother her again, that's a cinch. Who's that ahead?" "That" was Molly waiting for them at a turn in the trail.
"Then what didja let him get away for?" persisted Racey. "Luke Tweezy said he left him here, and he said he'd stay here. That was yore job to see he stayed here." "Who are " began the suspicious McFluke. "Nemmine who I am," rapped out Racey, who believed he had formed a correct estimate of McFluke. "I'm somebody who knows more about this deal than you do, and that's enough for you to know.
"Yeah?" Indifferently. "Yeah, but I got my doubts now. Hell's bells! Wasn't you off to one side there when Racey pulled? Wasn't you?" "Wasn't you listenin' to what Racey said at the time? Wasn't you?" "After! I mean after! His gun was back hugging his leg after the girl slid in between. What more of a chance didja want?" "So that's it, huh?" "That's it."
Incontinently he slid sidewise from the saddle and clasped Racey round the neck. "I'm wild an' woolly an' full o' fleas I'm hard to curry below the knees " Thus he carolled loudly two lines of the justly popular song. "Luke," he bawled, switching from verse to prose, "why didja leave me, Luke?" Strangely enough, he did not stutter.
So had his father known. He wondered if Gower ever thought about that now. But there was in Gower's expression no hint of any disturbing thought. He uttered a brief "thanks" and pocketed his money. He sat down and took his oars in hand, albeit a trifle gingerly. And he said to old Doug Sproul, almost jovially: "Well, Doug, I got as many as you did, this trip." "Didja?" Sproul snarled.
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