won't pay for it. If you was n't so busy you 'd heard what I said."
Sammy was arising before he saw the tears of vexation in her eyes, but they settled it for him. He placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. "You get me some pie an' take a li'l walk. Me an' this here gent is goin' to hold a palaver. Ain't we, stranger?"
The drummer glared at him. "We ain't!" he retorted.
Sammy grinned ingratiatingly. "Oh, my; but we are." He slung a leg over a chair back and leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee. "Yes, indeed we are—least-a-wise, I am." His tones became very soft and confiding. "An' I 'm shore goin' to watch you eat that steak."
"What's that you 're going to do?" the drummer demanded, half rising.
"Sit down," begged Sammy, his gun swinging at his knee. He picked up a toothpick with his left hand and chewed it reflectively. "These here Colts make a' awful muss, sometimes," he remarked. "'Specially at close range. Why,"
