The foreman’s weapon covered him unwaveringly, but no more steadily than Bannister’s gaze the man who had come in with him who lay lifeless on the floor. The man looked at the lifeless thing, shuddered, and backed out of the saloon.
“I call y’u all to witness that my friend killed him in self-defense,” said Bannister evenly. “Y’u all saw him fire first. Mac did not even have his gun out.”
“That’s right,” agreed one, and another added: “He got what was coming to him.”
“He sure did,” was the barkeeper’s indorsement. “He came in hunting trouble, but I reckon he didn’t want to be accommodated so prompt.”
“Y’u’ll find us at the Gimlet Butte House if we’re wanted for this,” said Bannister. “We’ll be there till morning.”
But once out of the gambling-house McWilliams drew his friend to one side. “Do y’u know who that was I killed?”
“Judd Morgan, foreman before y’u at the Lazy D.”
“Yes, but what else?”
“What do y’u mean?”
“I mean that next to your cousin Judd was leader of that Shoshone-Teton bunch.”