“Unbuckle your belt and let it drop,” ordered Hashknife.
One look at Hashknife’s eyes, and Hardy complied.
“Back up five steps. Cook, you stand like you are.”
“Believe me!” gasped the cook earnestly.
Hashknife walked forward, plucked Hardy’s gun from the holster and flung it far back toward the corral. Then he backed to his horse, mounted and bolstered his gun.
“Thanks for the breakfast, just the same, Jinyus,” he said.
“Oh, you’re completely welcome.”
Without further conversation he whirled his horse around and galloped off down the road.
Jud Hardy stared at the cook and slowly put down his hands.
“That shore as hell beats me,” declared the cook foolishly. “What was all that gunplay about, Jud?”