The second, pouring out his third glass of brandy, sipped it quietly–the first two glasses having evidently supplied the fire he craved so fiercely.
The traveler, as we may call him, for want of any other knowledge, now rose, and as if impelled by natural politeness, tendered a cigarette to the other.
The man with auburn hair looked surprised, and his fierce, wild face softened a little, as he said:
"Thank you, no. I drink sometimes, like a fish, but I don't smoke. Tobacco shakes the nerves, they say, and I want my nerves steady.
"Strong drink will shake them more, I've heard," said the traveler, in his low, musical voice. "But you seem to have a steady hand though you take brandy as if used to it."
"My hand is steady, stranger." was the reply. "There is not a man on the Rio Grande border, where I came from, that can strike a center at twenty paces with a revolver as often as I. And with a rifle at one hundred yards I can most generally drop a deer with a ball between his eyes, if he is looking at me, or take a wild turkey's head without hurting his body."
"Then, you are from Texas?"
"Yes, sir. And you?"
"From the East, sir. I have traveled in the South–all over, in fact–but my home is in the old Empire State.
"If it isn't impudent, which way are you bound now?"