“I wonder if Hartley has seen Conley. The old man is out at his house with a Winchester in his hands, and he swears he’ll kill the first man that comes on the place.”
“How do you know?” demanded Cutter.
“His own daughter told me awhile ago.”
“Yeah, and he’ll do it, too,” said Cutter. “I’m shore glad I don’t owe him any visit.”
Mack Ort, one of English Ed’s gamblers, came up to the bar, nodding to the three men. Ort was a slim, dark-faced man of about thirty-five, reputed to be a gunman. Little was known of him in Turquoise City, except that he had cold, hard nerve, and very little sense of humor.
English Ed’s other gunman was Keno Smiley, a tall, tow-headed person, with a huge nose and a long, lean jaw. It was rumored that Smiley had left the mining camps of the Cœur d’Alenes just two jumps ahead of a United States marshal; but this rumor had never been confirmed.
Smiley had been picking out a tune on the piano with his long, lean fingers, but now he sauntered up to the bar beside Ort.
“Who was that puncher with Regan, Mack?” he asked.
“I dunno,” replied Ort. He turned to Cutter.
“Know who he is, Cutter?”