The man soon had a fire blazing in the stove, and from it came a breakfast of bacon, black coffee, and biscuits. He freed the hands of the nester and sat opposite him at the table, a revolver by the side of his plate for use in an emergency.
Keller smiled. "This is one of those fashionable dinners where they have extra hardware beside the plates," he suggested.
"Get gay, and I'll blow the top of yore head off!" the cow-puncher swore with gusto.
"Thanks. Under the circumstances, I reckon I'll not get gay. I'm in no hurry to put you in the pen, seh. Plenty of time. I'm going to need the top of my head to testify against you."
Irwin swore violently.
"For two cents I'd pump you full of holes right now," he glared.
Keller laughed, meeting him eye to eye pleasantly.
"Those aren't the orders, friend. I'm to be held here till the boss shows up or gives the signal."
The big jaw of his captor fell from astonishment. "Who told you that?"
The prisoner helped himself to more bacon and laughed again. He had made a guess, but he knew now that he had hit the bull's-eye with his shot in the dark.