"It greases a fellow's tongue," said Morton, with one of his persuasive smiles. "You won't have anything?" as a waiter appeared.
"Not to-night."
"Some whisky," said Agnew, and the waiter went away, returning shortly with a bottle and some glasses.
"Some cards!" said Agnew, and the waiter brought two unopened packs.
The Westerner's brow grew black. He fancied he saw through Agnew's little game. He believed that Agnew, who was a card-sharp, hoped to get him to talking, then to drinking, and finally into a game, and fleece him out of what money he had. Agnew's funds were low, and he was probably ready for any expedient.
"We can talk better over a game," Agnew urged, deftly opening a pack.
The Kansan pushed back. His blood was boiling. He could hold in no longer.
"I allow you're a big fool, Agnew, if you think you can do me up in that way!" he hotly declared. "I've been told that you tried to kill me the other day. Do you want to rob me, because you failed in that?"
Agnew grew white.
"What are you talking about?" he gasped. "Tried to kill you? What nonsense is that? I don't know what you mean."