Harry Morgan shoved his hand into his jacket pocket "Then I have a gun. You saw it, didn't you?"
"Yes. Yes ... I saw it when you came in."
"Good. Call him."
When Sam Fergus came in, he looked as though he had had about three or four too many slugs of whiskey. There was an odd fear an his face.
"Whats matter, Edway? I—" The fear increased when he saw Morgan. "Whadda you here for?"
"I'm here to make a speech Fergus. Sit down." When Fergus still stood, Morgan repeated what he had said with only a trace more emphasis. "Sit down."
Fergus sat. So did Tarnhorst.
"Both of you pay special attention," Morgan said, a piratical gleam in his eyes. "You killed a friend of mine. My best friend. But I'm not going to kill either of you. Yet. Just listen and listen carefully."
Even Tarnhorst looked frightened. "Don't move, Sam. He's got a gun. I saw it when he came in."
"What ... what do you want?" Fergus asked.