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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Rustlers of Pecos County"

But he was cool
an' quiet enough. The bio win' an' drinkin' was done by his pals. But
after a little while it got to me that Blome gloried in this situation.
I've seen a man dead-set to kill another, all dark, sullen, restless.
But Blome wasn't that way. He didn't seem at all like a bloody devil. He
was vain, cocksure. He was revelin' in the effect he made. I had him
figured all right.
"Blome sat on the edge of a table an' he faced the door. Of course,
there was a pard outside, ready to pop in an' tell him if Steele was
comin'. But Steele didn't come in that way. He wasn't on the street just
before that time, because Zimmer told me afterward. Steele must have
been in the Hope So somewhere. Any way, just like he dropped from the
clouds he came through the door near the bar. Blome didn't see him come.
But most of the gang did, an' I want to tell you that big room went
pretty quiet.
"'Hello Blome, I hear you're lookin' for me,' called out Steele.
"I don't know if he spoke ordinary or not, but his voice drew me up same
as it did the rest, an' damn me! Blome seemed to turn to stone. He
didn't start or jump. He turned gray. An' I could see that he was tryin'
to think in a moment when thinkin' was hard.


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