Part 12 (1/2)
There was in his manner a quality which caught attention like nippers.
He stood, forcing Webb to look into his threatening face a quiet instant. Then he spoke:
”That's a lie!”
The bantering smile swept from the other's face and his mouth drew down in a slanting snarl.
”What's a lie?”
”What you said is a lie, Webb, an' you're a liar--”
The smaller man's hand whipped to his holster and Beck, breaking short, closed on him, fingers like steel gripping the ready wrist.
”Don't try that with me, you rat!”
With a steady pull he lifted the resisting hand which gripped the gun away from the man's side while Webb struggled, cursing as he found himself unable to resist that strength.
”Give me that gun!”
Beck wrenched the weapon free. The group had drawn back and behind him Sam McKee made a quick movement. Two-Bits, beside him, dropped his hand to his hip and muttered:
”Keep out of this!”
McKee, hate flickering in his face, subsided, without protest, as a craven will.
Tom broke the gun and the cartridges scattered on the floor. He closed it with a snap and sent it spinning down the bar, clear to the far end.
His eyes had not left Webb's face.
”You're a liar,” he said again quietly. ”You're a liar and you're going to tell all the boys here that you're a liar.”
”Don't tell me I lie!”--retreating a step as Beck's body swayed toward him.
”You lied,” Tom said quietly, though his voice was not just steady. His hands were clenched and he held them slightly before his body as though yearning for opportunity to seize upon and injure the other.
”What is it to you, anyhow, if--”
”It's this to me, Webb: It makes me want to strangle the foul breath in your throat! That's what it is to me an' before these boys I will if you don't swallow your own dirty words just to get their taste.
”I don't want to be a killer, even over such as you are, but you've got me mad. We don't know an' n.o.body else knows how this girl's goin' to make it in this country, but, by G.o.d, Webb, she's goin' to have a fair chance. There ain't going to be any rotten talk that ain't called for an' it ain't called for ... yet.
”I expect I'd get into trouble if I killed you for this. There's just one chance for me to keep out of trouble, and that's for you to say you lied!”
He moved closer as Webb retreated slowly, his spurs ringing ever so slightly, yet their sound was audible in the stillness.
”Say it!” he insisted. ”Say it, you whelp!”
Webb's face had gone from red to the color of suet and the blotches stood sharply out against the pallor. His dirty a.s.surance was beaten down and before this man he was frightened ... and enraged at his own fright.
”Mebby I spoke too quick--”