But after Kid Rickard's
jarring mirth it was strangely still in the Casa Blanca; no noise of
clicking chips bespeaking a poker game, no loud-voiced babble, no sound
of a man walking across the bare floor.
"They're waiting for me," was Norton's quick thought. "Galloway knew
I'd come."
He passed on, came to the second window and paused again. The brief,
almost breathless silence within, which had followed the Kid's laugh,
had already been dissipated by the customary Casa Blanca sounds; a
guitar was strumming, chips clicked, a bottle was set heavily upon the
bar, a chair scraped. Norton frowned; a moment ago something happened
in there to still men's tongues. What was it? It was Galloway who
gave him his answer.
"So you came, did you, Vidal?" There was a jeer in the heavy voice.
"Scared to come, eh? And scared worse to stay away!" Galloway's short
laugh was as unpleasant as ever Rickard's had been.
"Si; I am here," the voice of Vidal Nunez was answering, quick, eager,
sibilant with its unmistakable nervous excitement. "Pete tell me what
you say an' I come." He lifted his voice abruptly, breaking into a
soft Southern oath. "Like a cat, to jump through the little window an'
roll on the floor an' by God, jus' in time. There is one man at the
back with a gun an' one man in front an' another man .
Pages:
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152