Again there was no answer. Apparently he did not exist for them. He shouted vile curses. Always before him was that dangling noose. One of the men arose and walked away from the others, then called over his shoulder:
“Don’t worry, Slivers; the boss will be here soon.”
Squint shivered and cast an apprehensive glance at the noose. The sun slowly went down behind the hills and the shadows lengthened.
The silence of those men and the sight of the dangling noose further upset Squint’s already overwrought nerves. He shrieked curses and tugged at the wire until his hands were raw and bleeding. The uncertainty of the whole thing sapped his courage until he was cowering on the ground, muttering meaningless words.
“Mebbe yuh heard tell of me—I’m Jim-twin Allen.”
Squint Lane looked up with a start. He saw a small man who looked as if he might be a thousand years old. The man’s face was covered with wrinkles; his strange eyes were unfathomable; his voice was flat, expressionless. There was something inhuman in the small man, for his face showed neither cruelty, anger, nor hate.
Squint swallowed convulsively and then mumbled: “The Killer Wolf.”
“Yuh heard tell of me?” Allen repeated.
Squint nodded.
“Who paid yuh to kill Iky Small?”