Kells sat down before the table and Blicky stood beside him with the gold-scales. The other bandits lined up opposite. Jim Cleve stood to one side, watching, brooding.
“You can't weigh it all on these scales,” said Blicky.
“That's sure,” replied Kells. “We'll divide the small bags first.... Ten shares—ten equal parts!... Spill out the bags. Blick. And hurry. Look how hungry Gulden looks!... Somebody cook your breakfast while we divide the gold.”
“Haw! Haw!”
“Ho! Ho!”
“Who wants to eat?”
The bandits were gay, derisive, scornful, eager, like a group of boys, half surly, half playful, at a game.
“Wal, I shore want to see my share weighted,” drawled Budd.
Kells moved—his gun flashed—he slammed it hard upon the table.
“Budd, do you question my honesty?” he asked, quick and hard.