tertainment. If he could get Ross inside, and talk it over with him quietly, he believed the old barbarian might be placated.
"This is no place for gentlemen to discuss their differences," Hall said, trying to appear frank and equal, although it was like lowering himself to the level of a hog. "Come inside, Dr. Ross; we'll talk it over in private."
"No, I'll not go in! I'll not breathe the same air with a spotted polecat like you! You'll stand right here before me and take your orders, by the gods!"
The gang came edging down the street, hesitatingly, with tentative feet put out like men trying doubtful ice, consumed by eagerness to hear both sides of it, yet held in restraint by the caution of experience. Fireworks might begin any moment, a bullet might come spinning in the wild course that bullets commonly take in a public fray, and crack the bone of some voter's leg.
Jim Justice, well to the front, was near enough now to see that Dr. Hall was not bulging anywhere with a hidden gun. He had not believed from the first that this man would descend to the common level by sticking a gun in his pocket in preparation for his inevitable reckoning with Old Doc Ross. Take a man with nickel-plated, judicial eyes like his and he'd trust to his bare-handed sufficiency through any kind of a scrape. The delight would be all the keener to see him stretch his long legs and gallop down the track toward Dodge, Old Doc Ross popping hot pills after him in his well-known, handy style.
Jim led on confidently after confirming his belief that Dr. Hall didn't have a gun stuck around on him somewhere. The others came after him like cattle trailing
