Tom let Angela slip to the floor.
“What’s all this?” he growled.
Jim gripped the deal table with one huge hand and flung it across the room. He advanced on Connie and slapped the latter’s pockets.
“No guns? Good!”
Connie went flying from a violent shove, likewise the silent man.
“Come here—you!” bawled Jim.
Tom came forward, his ugly face curved in a look of intense hate. He felt Jim snatch the revolver from his belt and pocket it. 145
“What’s your lay?” he growled.
Jim put his own revolver away and Tom’s hands dropped to his side.
“So you took a fancy to my property, eh?”