"I've been greatly annoyed to find," he said, seating himself on
Samson's bed, "that Horton arrived to-day."
"I reckon that's all right," said Samson. "He's a member, isn't he?"
Farbish appeared dubious.
"I don't want to appear in the guise of a prophet of trouble," he
said, "but you are my guest here, and I must warn you. Horton thinks of
you as a 'gun-fighter' and a dangerous man. He won't take chances with
you. If there is a clash, it will be serious. He doesn't often drink,
but to-day he's doing it, and may be ugly. Avoid an altercation if you
can, but if it comes--" He broke off and added seriously: "You will
have to get him, or he will get you. Are you armed?"
The Kentuckian laughed.
"I reckon I don't need to be armed amongst gentlemen."
Farbish drew from his pocket a magazine pistol.
"It won't hurt you to slip that into your clothes," he insisted.
For an instant, the mountaineer stood looking at his host and with
eyes that bored deep, but whatever was in his mind as he made that
scrutiny he kept to himself. At last, he took the magazine pistol,
turned it over in his hand, and put it into his pocket.
"Mr. Farbish," he said, "I've been in places before now where men were
drinking who had made threats against me. I think you are excited about
this thing. If anything starts, he will start it."
At the dinner table, Samson South and Wilfred Horton were introduced,
and acknowledged their introductions with the briefest and most formal
of nods. During the course of the meal, though seated side by side,
each ignored the presence of the other. Samson was, perhaps, no more
silent than usual. Always, he was the listener except when a question
was put to him direct, but the silence which sat upon Wilfred Horton
was a departure from his ordinary custom.
He had discovered in his college days that liquor, instead of
exhilarating him, was an influence under which he grew morose and
sullen, and that discovery had made him almost a total abstainer.
To-night, his glass was constantly filled and emptied, and, as he ate,
he gazed ahead, and thought resentfully of the man at his side.
When the coffee had been brought, and the cigars lighted, and the
servants had withdrawn, Horton, with the manner of one who had been
awaiting an opportunity, turned slightly in his chair, and gazed
insolently at the Kentuckian.