“Sure.... But I remember what you asked me the other day—about Gulden. Was that why?”
“Nope,” replied Cleve. “This was my affair.”
“All right. But I'd like to know. Pearce says you're in bad with Gulden's friends. If I can't make peace between you I'll have to take sides.”
“Kells, I don't need any one on my side,” said Cleve, and he flung the cigarette away.
“Yes, you do,” replied Kells, persuasively. “Every man on this border needs that. And he's lucky when he gets it.”
“Well, I don't ask for it; I don't want it.”
“That's your own business, too. I'm not insisting or advising.”
Kells's force and ability to control men manifested itself in his speech and attitude. Nothing could have been easier than to rouse the antagonism of Jim Cleve, abnormally responding as he was to the wild conditions of this border environment.
“Then you're not calling my hand?” queried Cleve, with his dark, piercing glance on Kells.
“I pass, Jim,” replied the bandit, easily.