The Man from Bar-20
their puzzled look and blazed again with rage. He reached swiftly to his holster, found it empty, and shrugged his shoulders.
Johnny regarded him coldly. "Get on that cayuse, an' start goin'. This town ain't big enough for both of us at once."
Ackerman silently obeyed, but his face was distorted with passion. When he had clawed himself into the saddle he looked down on the grim master of the situation.
"Words are foolish," he whispered. "We'll meet again!"
Johnny nodded. "I reckon so. Everybody plays their cards accordin' to their own judgment. Just now I got a high straight flush, so you hit th' trail, pronto!"
He stepped aside to get out of the dust-cloud which suddenly swirled around him, and watched it roll northward until the dim figures in it were lost to sight around a bend. The slouch went out of his bearing as he straightened up and slid his gun into its holster, and walking over to Ackerman's glittering six-shooter he picked it up and sneered at it.
"I ain't surprised," he laughed, eying the ivory handle and the ornate engraving. Wheeling abruptly he glanced carelessly at the grinning audience and strode to the door of Pop's saloon.
94
