“Do you know Ferne Yarnell?” he asked, for once taken aback.
“It looks as if I do.”
His quick furtive eye fell upon an envelope on the floor. He picked it up. Upon it was written, “Miss Ferne Yarnell,” and in the corner, “Introducing Miss Lee.”
A muscle twitched in his face. When he looked up there was an expression of devilish malignity on it.
“Mr. Bellamy’s handwriting, looks like.” He turned to the Arizona girl. “Then I didn’t put the fellow out of business.”
“No, you coward.”
The angry color crept to the roots of his hair. “Better luck next time.”
The door knob rattled. Someone outside was trying to get in. Those inside the room paid no 187 obvious attention to him. The venomous face of the cattle detective held the women fascinated.
“When Dick Bellamy ambushed Shep he made a hell of a bad play of it. My old mammy used to say that the Boones were born wolves. I can see where she was right. The man that killed my brother gets his one of these days and don’t you forget it. You just stick around. We’re due to shoot this thing out, him and me,” the man continued, his deep-socketed eyes burning from the grim handsome face.
“Open the door,” ordered a voice from the hall, shaking the knob violently.