"And, at that, it's an even break or nearly so, that as you
slipped out of the saddle you'd get me, too. . . . You take the pot
this time, Norton; I'm not betting." Shifting his hand he laid it
loosely upon the horn of his saddle. As he did so his chest inflated
deeply to a long breath.
Norton's uplifted hand came down swiftly, his thumb catching in his
belt. There was a contemptuous glitter in his eyes.
"After this," he said bluntly, "you'll always know and I'll always know
that you are afraid. I make it a part of my business not to
under-estimate the man I go out to get; I think I have overestimated
you."
For a moment Galloway seemed not to have heard as he stared away
through the gray distances. When he brought his eyes back to Norton's
they were speculative.
"Men like you and me ought to understand each other and not make any
mistakes," he said, speaking slowly. "I have just begun to imagine
lately that I have been doping you up wrong all the time. Now I've got
two propositions to make you; you can take either or neither."
"It will probably be neither; what are they? I've got a day's ride
ahead of me."
"Maybe you have; maybe you haven't. That depends on what you say to my
proposition. You're looking for Vidal Nunez, they tell me?"
"And I'm going to get him; as much as anything for the sake of swatting
the devil around the stump.
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