The man conversed easily, but it was noticeable that he watched Texas with cat-like vigilance, and that he poured his whiskey with his left hand.
Ordinarily Texas would have noticed this departure from the polite rules, but laboring under the excitement that his new determination brought him he was careless. For he had planned his regeneration, and his talk with the man was the beginning.
"You lifted the express box at Socorro, Buck!" said Texas, so earnestly that the table trembled.
Buck Reible, gambler, outlaw, murderer, pushed back his broad-brimmed hat with his hand—always he used his left—and gazed with level, menacing eyes at Texas. His lips parted with a half-sneer.
"If a man does a job nowadays, there's always some one wants in on it!" he declared, voicing his suspicion of Rankin's motive in bringing up the subject. "Because you was lucky in bein' close when the game come off is the reason you want a share of the cash," he added satirically. "How much——"
"Go easy, Buck," said Texas. "I ain't no angel, but I never played your style. I ain't askin' for a share."
"Then what in——"
"It's a new deal," declared Texas heavily. "A square deal. You took five thousand dollars out of Socorro, an' you salivated the agent doin' it. Jim Webster thought it was me, an' I was invited to a farewell performance in which I done the starrin'. Some night-prowler saw me down near the station just before you made your grand entrée, an'——"
"Serves you right for spoonin' with a female so close to where gentlemen has business," said Buck. "I saw her when you come toward me shootin'."
"An' what makes it more aggravatin'," continued Texas, unmoved by the interruption; "is that the lady was Jim Webster's daughter, an' we was thinkin' of gettin' married. But we didn't want Jim to know just then, an' she told me to keep mum, seein' that Jim was opposed. She said we'd keep it secret until——"