Then, before Welland could move an eye, his two revolvers were on the table, covering the politician.
"You see these guns?" he hissed; and his face was devilish. "They'll pump you full o' lead from head to heel if you're tryin' a double-cross on me. Get me?"
"A double-cross?" asked Welland, with no sign of alarm. "Why should I double-cross you?"
"That's neither here nor there. Just you mark what I said, that's all."
"And in return," said Welland slowly and distinctly, "you'll just remember this: if you give me away to a living soul, by so much as a word, I'll see you cut to pieces. I know just how to get you. And I can get you when I please."
Greasy's eyelids flickered. This man was of a type which was strange to him—one with whom it was not safe to trifle. He might have the power to do as he said. Smiling, he put up his weapons and rose from the table.
"Well, I guess we understand each other, Molyneux. There won't be no double-crossin', here or here. We're pardners, on the square—an' no questions ast. Correct?"
"Correct," said Welland.
"Then shake."
They shook.