Walker was gravely silent a little while, like a man who has just arrived at the proper appreciation of some grave danger which he has escaped.
“I’ve heard of Hun Shanklin a long time, but I never saw him before,” he said. “He’s killed several men in his time. Do you suppose he knows you shoved his table, or does he think somebody back of you pushed you against it?”
“I don’t suppose he needs anybody to tell him how it happened,” replied the doctor a little crabbedly.
“Of course I’ve got my own notion of it, old feller,” prattled Walker; “but they were purty thick around there just then, and shovin’ a good deal. I hope he thinks it happened that way. But I know nobody shoved you, and I’m much obliged.”
“Oh, forget it!” snapped Slavens, thinking of the six hundred dollars which had flown out of the young fellow’s hand so lightly. Once he could have bought a very good used automobile for four hundred. 61
“But don’t you suppose–” Walker lowered his voice to a whisper, looking cautiously around in the dark as he spoke–“that you stand a chance to hear from Hun Shanklin again?”
“Maybe,” answered Slavens shortly. “Well, here’s where I turn off. I’m stopping at the Metropole down here.”
“Say!”
Walker caught his arm appealingly.
“Between you and me I don’t like the looks of that dump where I’ve got a bed. You’ve been here longer than I have; do you know of any place where a man with all this blamed money burnin’ his hide might pull through till morning with it if he happened to slip a cog and go to sleep?”