"_Look out!_" Glass barked the words, and undertook to
deflect the weapon with his hand.
"Let it alone or it'll go off!"
Glass dropped his hand as if it had been burned, and stared down
his bulging front with horrified, fascinated eyes.
"Now, listen. We've stood for you as long as we can. You've made
your talk and got away with it, but from now on you're working
for us. We've framed a foot-race, and put up our _panga_
because you said you had a champeen. Now, we ain't sayin' you
lied--'cause if we thought you had, I'd gut-shoot you here, now."
Willie paused, while Glass licked his lips and undertook to frame
a reply. The black muzzle of the weapon hovering near his heart,
however, stupefied him. Mechanically he thrust the stem of his
pipe between his lips while Willie continued to glare at him
balefully. "You're boss is a guest, but you ain't. We can talk
plain to you."
"Y--yes, of course."
"You said just now you'd answer for him with your life. Well, we
aim to make you! We ain't a-goin' to lose this foot-race under no
circumstances whatever, so we give you complete authority over
the body, health, and speed of Mr.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124