There was a pause, in which crap dealers slid down softly beneath their tables and the rest of the assembly stood frozen, and then Hall spoke to the nearest of the gang.
"What can I do for you, my friend?" he asked with deceptive quietness, and the nerve of the Texan broke.
"Have a drink!" he guffawed, turning and heading for the bar; but Burge Masters stepped out in his place.
"We want you," he said, "and you might as well come quietly. If you don't——"
"I won't come," stated Hall.
There was another pause, and the crowd by the door suddenly ducked and charged out into the street; then, after an interval, another crowd surged in, and in the lead strode Wahoo Meshackatee. He had a gun in each hand and when he saw the Texans he started, then glanced inquiringly at McIvor.
"Well, hello!" he exclaimed, "what's going on here, anyhow? Have I broke in on a little family party?"
Burge Masters turned his head but he did not speak and his men began to shuffle away.
"Oh, nothing much," he mumbled, and Meshackatee beckoned to Hall, then held up his hand to the bar-keeper.
"Have a drink, boys," he said. "Your faces seem familiar. Long time since I've seen a live Texan."