But there was something in the outlaw's manner, in the cold, measured
tone of his voice, in his nonchalant disregard of the pistol in Lawler's
hand that brought a swift suspicion into Lawler's mind. It was a
presentiment that the outlaw was not alone in the cabin; that he had
carefully laid his plans, and that they did not include a gun fight in
which he would have to face Lawler upon equal terms.
Lawler did not look around. He kept his gaze unwaveringly upon the
outlaw, knowing that if other men were in the cabin with him they were
waiting for Antrim to give the word to shoot him. Otherwise they would
have shot him down when he had entered.
"Not sayin' anything, eh?" jeered Antrim. "Well, come a-shootin'. You
bust in here, seein' red, with a gun in your hand; an' then stand there,
like you was wonderin' if you was welcome." He peered close at Lawler,
his eyes narrowing with suspicion, and then, finally, with savage
amusement.
"I reckon I ketch on," he sneered. "You know there's some one here with
me, an' that they've got you covered. I know you, an' I knowed you'd
come rushin' in here, just like you did, killin' mad. Bah! Did you think
I'd give you a chance, you short-horned maverick! There's Selden behind
that curtain, there--back of the cupboard.
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