"Lanpher," said Racey without preliminary, "I want to serve notice on you here and now that if I catch you within one mile of Moccasin Spring you come a-shooting because I will."
Lanpher's hand remained motionless on the desktop. Then the man picked up a pencil and began to tap it on the wood. He licked his lips cat-fashion.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" he asked.
"You can take it she's both," Racey told him.
"You hear that, Luke?" Lanpher turned to Luke Tweezy. "Threatenin' my life, huh?"
"Shore," nodded Luke Tweezy. "Actionable, that is. Mustn't threaten a man's life, Racey. Against the law, you know."
Racey moved to one side and leaned his back comfortably against the wall. "Against the law, huh, Luke?" he said nervously. "Then I can be arrested?"
"You can," Luke Tweezy declared with evident relish. "That is, you can if Lanpher wants to make a complaint."
"You hear, Lanpher?" asked Racey, still more nervously. "You wanna make a complaint, huh?"
Lanpher had not failed to note the nervousness of Racey's tone. Now he licked his lips again. He felt quite cheerful of a sudden. It gave him a warm and pleasant feeling to think that Racey Dawson was to a certain degree in his power. Having licked his lips several times he rubbed his chin judicially and coughed, likewise judicially.