"They're all deceivers," muttered Riley Tyler, reddening to his ear tips.
"Ain't it the truth!" said Shotgun Shillman. "They can lie to you with a straighter face than a government mule. Like that jail lady in the Bible who put the kybosh on a feller named Scissors by nailing his head to the kitchen floor with a railroad spike. Yeah, her. Hugging him she was ten minutes before using the hammer. Oh, that's their best bet; kiss you with one hand and cut your throat with the other."
"That's news," said Riley Tyler. "Where I come from the gent kisses with his mouth, and if he has to cut your throat he uses the butcher knife."
"Did that hasher do all those things?" Shotgun asked instantly.
Riley made believe not to hear. Shotgun chuckled.
"Billy's coming back," observed the latter, gazing through the window. "Where did he go?"
"Walton's, he said."
"I thought he liked Hazel Walton."
"He likes 'em all." Thus Riley, thinking of the scornful waitress who did not like him. "'Lo, Bill, remember to wipe your feet on the mat. Li'l paddies all cold?"
"She's a-thawing," replied Billy Wingo, kicking the snow from his boots. "But I need a large, long, hot drink alla same. Where is that bottle?"