Part 18 (1/2)
Major Stover, if this were he, was a paunchy, disgustingly fat man.
His face was moonlike, sensually thick of lip. His eyes, as they fell upon his visitor, were hoglike, nearly buried in sallow folds of skin.
The thick brows above them had grown close together.
”Well,” The Kid drawled, ”I don't exactly know. Yo' deal in lands, I believe?”
”I have some holdings,” said the fat man complacently. ”Are yo'
interested in the San Felipe district?”
”Very much,” said The Kid, nodding. ”I am quite attracted by Rattlesnake County, and----”
”This isn't Rattlesnake County, young man,” corrected the land agent.
”This is San Felipe County.”
”Oh, excuse me,” murmured the Texan, ”maybe I got that idea because of the lahge numbah of snakes----”
”There's no more snakes here than----” the other began.
”I meant the human kind,” explained Kid Wolf mildly.
Major Stover's eyes narrowed suspiciously. ”What do yuh want with me?”
he demanded.
”Did yo' offah ten thousand dollahs fo' the S Bar Ranch?”
”That is none of yore business!”
”No?” drawled Kid Wolf patiently. ”Yo' might say that I am heah as Mrs. Thomas' agent.”
The major looked startled. ”Where's yore credentials?” he snapped, after a brief pause.
Kid Wolf merely smiled and tapped the b.u.t.ts of his six-guns. ”Heah, sah,” he murmured. ”I'm askin' yo'.”
Major Stover looked angry. ”Yes,” he said sharply, ”I did at one time make such an offer. However, I have reconsidered. My price is now three thousand dollars.”
”May I ask,” spoke The Kid softly, ”why yo' have reduced yo' offah?”
”Because,” said the land dealer, ”she has to sell now! I've got her where I want her, and if yo're her agent, yuh can tell her that!”
One stride, and Kid Wolf had fat Major Stover by the neck. For all his weight, and in spite of his bulk, The Kid handled him as if he had been a child. An upward jerk dragged him from his chair. The Texan held him by one muscular hand.
”So yo' have her where yo' want her, have yo'?” he cried, giving the major a powerful shake.
He pa.s.sed his other hand over the land agent's flabby body, poking the folds of fat here and there over Major Stover's ribs. At each thump the major flinched.
”Why, yo're as soft as an ovahripe pumpkin,” Kid Wolf drawled, deliberately insulting. ”And yo' dare to tell me that! No, don't try that!”
Major Stover had attempted to draw an ugly-looking derringer. The Kid calmly took it away from him and threw it across the room. He shook the land agent until his teeth rattled like dice in a box.