“Led him loose,” said Sorensen. “I squirsh him.”
“You fools calm down,” growled the bartender.
“This ain’t no place to start fights.”
“You hang onto yourself, Angel,” warned Dell. “Weed’s drunk. Don’t start no gun-play; sabe?”
Angel shook out his twisted sleeve, glaring at Weed, who laughed owlishly at him and offered to buy a drink.
“Damn you and yore drinks!” snapped Angel.
Chuck Ring came sauntering in, and Boomer immediately got hold of his belt.
“C’mon and have a drink, Chuck. I jus’ had a battle with Angel. He says he’s goin’ to crawl Slim Caldwell.”
“Thasso?” Chuck looked curiously at Angel, who stood apart from them, glaring at Boomer.
“What you got ag’in’ old Slim, McCoy?” asked Ring.