The Sheriff's Son
you. The chuck-wagon is ready for you whenever you say the word."
"I don't reckon I 'll say it, Ned. Eating is just a habit. One man wants his eggs sunny side up; another is strong for them hard-boiled. But eggs is eggs. When Dan went visitin' at Santa Fé, he likely changed his diet. For two or three days he probably did n't like the grub, then—"
With a raucous curse the former convict swung round on him. A revolver seemed to jump to his hand, but before he could fire, young Rutherford was hanging to his wrist.
"Don't you, Dan. Don't you," warned Ned.
Slowly Meldrum's eyes lost their savage glare. "One o' these days I 'll pump lead into him unless he clamps that mouth of his'n. I won't stand for it." His voice trailed into a string of oaths.
Apparently his host's fury at this reference to his convict days did not disturb in the least the man on the bed. His good-natured drawl grew slightly more pronounced. "Wall yore eyes and wave yore tail all you 've a mind to, Dan. I was certainly some indiscreet reminding you of those days when you was a guest of the Government."
"That's enough," growled Meldrum, slam-
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