Galloway stood motionless, his cigar clamped tight in his big square teeth. Then he shrugged and went to the door.
"If I am standing a good deal off of you," he muttered, hanging on his heel just before he passed out, "it's because I am as strong as any man in the county to see the law brought into San Juan. And"--for the first time yielding outwardly to a display of the emotion riding him, he spat out venomously and tauntingly--"and we'd have had the law here long ago had we had a couple of men in the boots of the Nortons, father and son!"
Rod Norton's face went a flaming red with anger, his hand grew white upon the butt of the gun at his side.
"Some day, Jim Galloway," he said steadily, "I'll get you just as sure as you got Billy Norton!"
Galloway laughed and went out.
To Antone, Norton put the identical questions he had asked of Galloway, receiving virtually the same replies. Seeking the one opportunity suggesting itself into tricking the bartender, he asked at the end:
"Just before the shooting, when you and Galloway were talking and he told you that Bisbee was looking for trouble, why weren't you ready to grab him when he went for his gun?"
Antone was giving his replies as guardedly as Galloway had done. He took his time now.
"Because," he began finally, "I do not belief when Señor Galloway speak that . . ."
His eyes had been roving from Norton's, going here and there about the room. Suddenly a startled look came into them and he snapped his mouth shut.