"I've never carried a gun, and I don't intend to begin now. I fancy I can take care of myself without that. Thank you, Mr. Travers. I'm glad you told me this. Good evening."
He had turned to go, when he heard his name spoken in an agitated whisper. He stopped, and faced about.
"That ain't all, doctor. You've done me a fine turn, and I want to break even."
"Well?"
"Marston's just left here. He's been in the bar drinking for an hour or more, and he's been talkin' mighty reckless. It was about you, and he boasted he was going to make you sorry you ever came here—that he was going to run you out of town. He'd just been at the long distance telephone, and he said he'd found out something, and would know more tomorrow. He'd been drinking heavily, you know, and didn't care what he said. He leaves on the early mornin' train. I was standin' close to that swingin' door, and heard every word he said. He wasn't talkin' to anybody in particular—just easin' himself. But he'll hurt you if he can."
Glenning's voice was very low as he asked—
"Where is he going?"
"To Jericho," said Travers.