"
"He run into a gunman?"
"Gunman?" she laughed heartily. "Partner, if it wasn't for something
funny about his eyes, I wouldn't be no more afraid of that gunman than I
am of a tabby-cat. And me a weak woman. The quietest lookin' sort that
ever come to Brownsville. But there's something queer about him. He
knows that Mac Strann is here in town. He knows that Mac Strann is
waiting for Jerry to die. He knows that when Jerry dies Mac will be out
for a killin'. And this here stranger is just sittin' around and waitin'
to be killed! Can you beat that?"
But Buck Daniels had grown strangely excited.
"What did you say there was about his eyes?" he asked sharply.
She grew suddenly suspicious.
"D' you know him?"
"No. But you was talkin' about his eyes?"
"I dunno what it is. I ain't the only one that's seen it. There ain't no
word you can put to it. It's just there. That's all."
The voice of Buck Daniels fell to a whisper.
"It's sort of fire," he suggested. "Ain't it a kind of light _behind_
his eyes?"
But the waitress stared at him in amazement.
"Fire?" she gasped. "A light _behind_ his eyes? M'frien', are you tryin'
to string me?"
"What's his name?"
"I dunno."
"Ma'am," said Daniels, rising hastily. "Here's a dollar if you'll take
me to him."
"You don't need no guide," she replied. "Listen to that, will you?"
And as he hearkened obediently Buck Daniels heard a strain of whistling,
needle-sharp with distance.
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