Evidently Greasy had been waiting at the door, for he immediately came in, slouching across the floor and standing beside Watkins and Dunlavey. Allen closed the door and adjusted the fastenings carefully. Then he turned again to Dunlavey.
“Now we’ll proceed to do the talking,” he said. He walked over to the chair that he had previously vacated, dropping carelessly into it and leaning comfortably back. His movements had been those of a man unquestionably sure of peace. The expression of his eyes, the tones of his voice, his deliberation hinted at a desire for a peaceful compromise.
But once seated in his chair a startling change came over him. There was a rapid movement at his sides, a mere flash of light, and two heavy six-shooters appeared suddenly in his hands and lay there, unaimed, but forbiddingly ready. He sat erect, his eyes chilled and glittering, alert, filled with menace.
“Now,” he said sharply, “the first man who peeps above a whisper gets his so plenty that he won’t care a damn who’s nominated for sheriff!” He spoke to Norton and Hollis without turning his head. “You two get whatever guns them gentlemen happen to have on them, standing to one side so’s I can see to perforate anyone who ain’t agreeable to handing them over.”
Norton rose and approached Dunlavey, while Hollis stepped forward to the sheriff and secured the weapon that reposed in a holster at his right hip. He did likewise with Greasy. While Norton was relieving Dunlavey of his weapon the sheriff opened his lips to speak, his gaze fixed doubtfully on one of Allen’s sixes.
“The law—” he began. But Allen interrupted with a grin.
“Sure,” he said, “the law didn’t figure on this. But I reckon you heard Big Bill say once that the law could be handled. I’m handling it now. But I reckon that lets you out–you ain’t in on this and the mourners’ll be after you to-morrow if you open your trap again!”
The sheriff swelled with rage, but he closed his lips tightly. When Hollis and Norton had completed their search for weapons and had laid the result of their search on the table near Allen they sought their chairs.
Dunlavey had said nothing. He stood beside Watkins’s desk, still self-possessed, the mocking smile still on his face, though into his eyes had come a doubting, worried expression. Plainly he had not anticipated such drastic action from Allen.
The latter laughed grimly, quietly. “Sort of unexpected, wasn’t it, Bill?” he said, addressing Dunlavey. “It ain’t just the sort of politics that you’ve been used to. But I’m kind of used to it myself. Had to pull the same game off over in Colfax County when I was runnin’ for sheriff the first time. It worked, too, because the folks that was mixed up in it knowed I wasn’t ringing in any bluff.” He looked at Dunlavey with a level, steady gaze, his eyes gleaming coldly. “If you think I’m bluffing now, chirp for some one of your pluguglies to bust into this game. I’d sort of like to let off my campaign guns into your dirty gizzard!”