Madrid laid Tesno's gunbelt on the bar, trying not to seem too pleased with himself. "Wish the man had been friendlier. I like to get along with everybody. Makes my job easier."
"He ain't the friendly kind," Pinky said.
"You tangled with him before?"
"Idaho. I had a tent saloon; big wall tent, cost me four hundred dollars. Had another thousand in liquor and gambling equipment. Set up close to a construction camp. Tesno come along, said to move. I had a territorial license and wouldn't do it. He knocked down the tent and worked it over with a disc harrow. Nothing left but a pile of whisky-soaked rags."
"You should have blasted him," Madrid said. "Law would have been on your side."
"It would? Listen, four reservation bucks come along, wrung out the rags, and got crazy drunk. Tesno brought out the sheriff, and I got arrested for peddling booze to Indians!"
"Hell of a thing," Madrid said, picking up the gunbelt and moving away. "Well, I got work to do."
Pinky knew what he meant. There were folks who ought to be notified that Tesno was in town.