"I guess you've come to the wrong house," returned Winchester politely. "That's the Scarborough place over there."
He opened the door and pointed off across the plain, but the Texans were not to be denied. They were Texans, every one, and there was a wild look in their eyes as they reined in their horses and sat waiting. Winchester noted it, but his manner was calm.
"Well, all right," he said, when they protested ignorance of the Scarboroughs, "we ain't running no restaurant but if you'll wait outside a while——"
"Outside!" snapped the leader, quick to snatch at some offense, and his men ranged in behind him.
"We have ladies in the house," explained Winchester, still suavely; and Allifair appeared behind him.
"Well, tell 'em to come out of that!" ordered the boss cowboy threateningly, "and git us something to eat!"
"Take her away," whispered Hall, brushing Winchester aside and stepping in front of Allifair.
"Good morning, gentlemen," he said—"I hope you'll excuse us——"
"Send the women out!" snarled the cowboy, glaring at Hall in a fury. "You'd better, if you know what's good for you."
"What do you mean?" demanded Hall; and, as Winchester came back and stood in the door, the killer gave the signal to shoot.