"A formidable reputation without firing a shot!" admitted Jack quizzically, and consented.
"You'll surely want your gun this time!" Bob warned him.
"No," said Jack.
"But—"
"I have hung up my gun!" Jack said decisively. "We'll try to handle this peacefully. Come on!"
"Well, we've got our guns, anyway!" Jim put in.
It was mid-afternoon, a slack hour for Pedro's kind of trade, and the shanty was empty of customers when the impromptu vigilance committee entered. Pedro himself was half dozing in the faro dealer's chair. His small, ferret eyes flashed a spark at the visitors as he rose, but he was politeness itself.
"Señores! It is great honor! Be seated, señores!" he said with eloquent deference.
The very sight of him set all the ounces in Bob quivering in an outburst:
"No chairs for us! You fork over Gonzalez's money that you tricked out of him!"