“‘The less you count the longer you’ll live!’ said Shields” (See page 192.)
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” replied Tex with a leer and swagger. “To a man up a tree it looks like yu are up agin a buzz saw this time.”
“To a man on the ground it looks like your tin buzz saw has hit the hardest knot it ever struck, and you’ll feel the jar purty soon, too,” Shields countered, his hazel eyes beginning to grow red. “You put up that gun and scoot before I blow your d––d head off!”
“I’ll give yu ’til I counts three to answer my question,” Tex said, ignoring the advice. “One!”
“The less you count the longer you’ll live,” said Shields, gripping his horse with his knees in readiness to jump it sideways.
“Two!”
“Afternoon, gents,” said a pleasant voice up above them, and all jumped and looked up. As they did so Shields jerked his guns loose and laughed softly: “That itch has plumb gone away,” he said. “It’s a new deal,” he exulted, his face wreathed in grins.
CHAPTER XII
A NEW DEAL ALL AROUND
ON the edge of the bank, thirty feet above them, a man squatted on his heels, his forearms resting easily on his knees. In each hand was a long-barreled Colt, held in a manner oppressively businesslike. One of the guns was leveled at the stomach of the man who guarded Bill, and who still held the rope; the other covered the man who had baited the sheriff. Shields took care of the remaining two. One of the newcomer’s eyes was half closed, squinting to keep out the smoke which curled up from the cigarette which protruded jauntily from a corner of his mouth. If anything was needed to strengthen the air of pertness of the man above it was supplied by his sombrero, which sat rakishly over one ear. A quizzical grin flickered across his face and the cigarette bobbed recklessly when he laughed.