Part 8 (1/2)
A nod of agreement.
”What's your price?”
”None.”
”No price? Look here,” argued Strann, ”everything's got a price, and I got to have that hoss, understand? _Got_ to! I ain't bargaining. I won't try to beat you down. You just set a figger and I'll cover it. I guess that's square!”
”He ain't a gentle hoss,” said Barry. ”Maybe you wouldn't like him.”
”Oh, that's all right about being gentle,” chuckled Strann. Then he checked his mirth and stared piercingly at the other to make out if there were a secret mockery. It could not, however, be possible. The eyes were as gravely apologetic as ever. He continued: ”I seen the h.e.l.l-fire in him. That's what stopped me like a bullet. I like 'em that way. Much rather have 'em with a fight. Well, let's have your price.
Hey, O'Brien, trot out your red-eye; I'm going to do some business here!”
O'Brien came hastily, with drinks, and while they waited Strann queried politely: ”Belong around these parts?”
”No,” answered the other softly.
”No? Where you come from?”
”Over there,” said Barry, and waved a graceful hand towards half the points of the compa.s.s.
”H-m-m!” muttered Strann, and once more he bent a keen gaze upon his companion. The drinks were now placed before them. ”Here,” he concluded, ”is to the black devil outside!” And he swallowed the liquor at a gulp, but as he replaced the empty gla.s.s on the table he observed, with breathless amazement, that the whiskey gla.s.s of the stranger was still full; he had drunk his chaser!
”Now, by G.o.d!” said Strann in a ringing voice, and struck a heavy hand upon the top of the table. He regained his control, however, instantly.
”Now about that price!”
”I don't know what horses are worth,” replied Barry.
”To start, then--five hundred bucks in cold cash--gold!--for your--what's his name?”
”Satan.”
”Eh?”
”Satan.”
”H-m-m!” murmured Strann again. ”Five hundred for Satan, then. How about it?”
”If you can ride him,” began the stranger.
”Oh, h.e.l.l,” smiled Strann with a large and careless gesture, ”I'll _ride_ him, all right.”
”Then I would let you take him for nothing,” concluded Barry.
”You'd--what?” said Strann. Then he rose slowly from his chair and shouted; instantly the swinging doors broke open and a throng of faces appeared at the gap. ”Boys, this gent here is going to give me the black--ha, ha, ha!--if I can ride him!” He turned back on Barry.
”They've heard it,” he concluded, ”and this bargain is going to stick just this way. If your hoss can throw me the deal's off. Eh?”
”Oh, yes,” nodded the brown-eyed man.
”What's the idea?” asked one of Jerry's followers as the latter stepped through the doors of the saloon onto the street.