“That’s the stuff!” snorted Terry. “There’s too many officers for the good of the country. If I had my way, there wouldn’t be any officers. Prob’ly be a lot better off, at that.”
“Ain’t I ever seen you down around Yuma?” asked Oscar. “Yore face is familiar.”
“You never seen me down around Yuma,” declared Terry.
“You ain’t got no brothers down there, have yuh?”
“Ain’t got no brothers nowhere, feller. And yuh don’t need to get so damn’ personal.”
“Oh, thatsall right,” said the bartender quickly, “I wasn’t tryin’ to be smart.”
“They only made one like Terry,” grinned Hank. “They seen it was a hell of a bum mould; so they took it out and busted it over the back fence. And yuh don’t need to snap at me, feller. I know yuh pretty well, and I ain’t scared of yore bark. Yore folks was shore absentminded to ever let yuh grow up. Pa strangled three that was better than you were, before he ever let one grow up to a sheep dog.”
Terry glanced toward the door, where Cultus Collins was coming in, and a laugh froze on his lips. Cultus merely glanced at the two men in front of the bar, and sat down against the wall, behind a poker table, and began reading a newspaper.
Terry took a deep breath and faced the bar, while Hank looked keenly at him, wondering what had happened to take all the joy out of Terry.
“Little drink,” said Terry softly. “One more, and then we’ll head for the ranch.”