Stenn looked at the man with the gun.
"You referred to someone named 'Maxy.' Would that by any chance be Mr. Max Arena?"
Slim looked at him and thought about it.
"Could be," he said.
Stenn came slowly over to the Slav. Standing well out of the line of fire, he carefully put a hand in the loose pocket of the weather suit and brought out the pistol. I saw Slim's eyes tighten. He was having to make some tough decisions in a hurry.
Stenn moved offside, pistol in hand.
"Move away from him, Smith," he said.
I didn't know what he had in mind, but it didn't seem like the time to argue. I moved back.
"Drop your gun," he said.
I risked a glance at his mild expression.