“Seems as though some of the Diamond Dot boys were caught trying to ship some Box B cattle yesterday afternoon,” said Slim.
Maxie Denkman sneezed into the cereal and Leo Kovec let his fork drop with a clatter.
“Anybody hurt?” asked Titzell, his voice low and tense.
“Plenty of the Diamond Dot boys and it seems as though I recall seeing a friend of yours being shot out of the saddle.”
“Who was that?” asked Maxie.
“Newt Bemis.” Slim’s eyes never left Titzell for he knew that if there were to be fireworks, Titzell would start the trouble.
But Titzell never batted an eye and Slim gave him another shock.
“Hack Cook was taken, too. Hack talked.”
That touched off the fuse. Titzell knew then that Slim had come to take him. With a leap he was clear of the table, his right hand sweeping toward the shoulder holster.
But Slim had anticipated the move. As Titzell clawed the gun from his holster, the explosion of Slim’s gun echoed through the hotel and Titzell’s weapon spun across the room.