“Tha’s my cravin’, likewise,” said Nebrasky, trying to put his hat on upside down. “Whazze-e got any right to git mad ’bout, in the firs’ place? Goo’ness, it was all in fun.”
Kelsey was rapidly recovering, and he knew what had happened. His right hand felt his empty holster, and his eyes searched the floor. He had heard the gun fall when he was upside down.
“It’s under that card-table up there,” said Clark.
Kelsey saw it. He got up slowly and went toward his gun, while the Heavenly Triplets walked straight out through the front doorway. Possibly they did not go straight, but they were out of the saloon when Kelsey recovered his gun.
“I wouldn’t do anything, if I was you, Len,” said Clark. “They were all drunk and didn’t realize.”
“Didn’t they?” cried Len flatly. “Don’t never think they didn’t. It was all framed up to dump me on my head. I know that gang.”
“Better have a drink and forget it, Len.”
“Yeah, that’s fine—for you. By ⸺, you never got a bump like that—and forgot it.”
Kelsey walked straight to the street, but there was no sign of the three men from the Flying H. Kelsey lingered for several moments, then went on toward his office, while into the back door of the Pinnacle Saloon came Nebrasky, Lonnie and Dan, as if nothing had happened.
“Kelsey is lookin’ for you three,” said Clark.