“I don’t know why I’ve changed. God knows, I’ve no reason to help Big Medicine, except that he was right and I was wrong. They were good to me as long as I was good. I went away hating all of them. I hated them until I seen you trying to marry that girl off to a dirty Mexican crook, and then something made me hate all of you. I’m no better than you are. I know that. But even if I am, I hate you, and I’ll block your dirty game as long as I can stand up.”
“Jack, you’re crazy!” Meline’s voice broke. “Crazy, I tell you.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“You’re full of dope!” declared Baldy.
Jack laughed softly, but shook his head.
“No, I’m not, Kern. I was one of my father’s free customers before I got shot. I’ve had one dose since—no more. God knows why he taught me to use it, but he did.”
Doctor Meline shook his head, as if to deny it all, turned away, but whirled suddenly and flung himself at Jack. It was almost a surprise assault, but not quite. Jack pulled the trigger as they clinched, and the big man staggered back gripping his right forearm, where the heavy bullet had smashed its way through.
Big Medicine sprang to his feet, but Kohler was into him, rifle upraised, just as Baldy drew and fired at Jack. He was too close to miss. Jack sagged back, throwing a hand up to his face, and the next instant Baldy Kern whirled drunkenly, grasping at the table, while from the connecting doors came the heavy report of a sixshooter.
It was Hashknife and Sleepy coming toward the crowd, shooting through their own smoke, taking the K-10 outfit so by surprise that they were stunned into inaction for a moment.
Kohler went down, almost falling into Big Medicine, who caught Kohler’s rifle, and leaned against the wall, shooting from his hip. Ike yelped joyfully and flung himself headlong across the floor to get possession of Baldy’s sixshooter, while Musical and Cleve almost fought each other to see which might get a chance to use the gun which was still in Kohler’s holster.