“Yes, I see 'im now through the left-hand window,” said Pole. “Do you want to speak to 'im?”
“Yes.” Floyd moved in the direction indicated, and Pole wonderingly followed. Outside on the pavement, at the corner of the store, Jones stood talking to a group of eager listeners. He stopped when he saw Floyd and looked in the opposite direction, but in a calm voice the young merchant called him.
“Mel, may I see you a minute?”
“Certainly.” The face of the gaunt farmer fell as he came forward, his eyes shifting uneasily.
“I got a message from Jeff Wade just now,” said Floyd.
“Oh, did you?—is that so?” the fellow exclaimed.
“Yes, he says he has a private matter to settle with me, and says he'll be here at the store at twelve. Now, as you see, Mel, there are a good many people standing around—women and children—and somebody might get hurt or frightened. You know where Price's spring is, down behind the old brick-yard?”
“Oh yes, I know where it is, Floyd.”
“Well, you will do me a favor if you will ride out to Wade's and tell him I'll meet him there. He could reach it without coming through town, and we'd escape a lot of prying people who would only be in the way.”
“That's a good idea,” said Jones, his strong face lighting up. “Yes, I'll go tell 'im. I'm glad to see that you are a man o' backbone, Floyd. Some 'lowed that you'd throw up the sponge an' leave fer parts unknown, but Jeff's got to tackle the rale stuff. I kin see that, Floyd. Minnie's raised a lots o' devilment, an' my wife says she don't blame you one bit, but Jeff cayn't be expected to see it through a woman's eyes. I wish you was goin' to meet a man that wasn't sech a dead-shot. I seed Jeff knock a squirrel out of a high tree with his six-shooter that three men had missed with rifles.”