As he flung the query over his shoulder his beady little eyes did not leave Pringle's.
Bell Applegate got leisurely to his feet—a tall man, well set up, with a smooth-shaved, florid face and red hair.
"If he has we'll jack him in the jug." He threw back the lapel of his coat, displaying a silver star.
"But I ain't got no gun," protested John Wesley meekly. "You-all can see for yourself."
"We will—don't worry! Don't you make one wrong move or I'll put out your light!"
"Be you the sheriff?"
"Police. Go to him, Ben!"
"No gun," reported Ben after a swift search of the shrinking captive.
"I done told you so, didn't I?"
"Mighty good thing for you, old rooster. Gun-toting is strictly barred in Las Uvas. You got to take your gun off fifteen minutes after you get in from the road and you can't put it on till fifteen minutes before you take the road again."