Johnny Grant had spotted them and was coming their way, slightly unsteady on his legs, but grinning widely.
“C’mon and have a drink,” he urged. “I jist runs four-bits into a ten-spot in the black-jack game. If yuh don’t drink yuh can have a see-gar. But I warns yuh, their see-gars are a lot older than the liquor they sell. C’mon up to the bar and meet some of the folks.”
Neither of them wanted a drink, but they did want to be friendly with Johnny Grant and his crowd; so they elbowed their way to the bar. Ed Gast and Bill Bailey, of the X Bar 6, were at the bar, and Johnny introduced them, after which he deposited his money on the bar, and demanded action.
“Beatin’ that game is as easy as holdin’ up a train,” he declared, chuckling. “Runs four-bits up to ten dollars, and sticks my thumb at m’ nose at the dealer.”
Hashknife noticed that the sheriff was at the bar, and that Johnny’s remark interested him.
“Except that yuh can’t very well lose at holdin’ up a train,” added Eskimo Swenson, who had caught the sheriff’s reflection in the mirror. “If yuh ever get the money in yore hands, yo’re as safe as a church. Political affluence shore as —— don’t make a sheriff a man-catcher.”
Realizing that this conversation was for his benefit, the sheriff moved away from the bar, while the AK boys chuckled over their drinks. Even Sleepy Stevens shed his pessimistic attitude and grinned.
“These are home folks,” he said to Hashknife. “It appears that the sheriff ain’t standin’ very well with the AK.”
“Aw, he’s all right,” said Oyster. “Scotty’s as good as the average sheriff, except that he’s too serious. He’d give his right eye for a chance to prove first degree murder agin’ the whole AK outfit, because we devil him. He’s—”
The men at the bar jerked around when from out in the street came the unmistakable sound of a revolver shot.