"You're right," he announced calmly. "Anybody could see with half an
eye that you ain't a fool. It's took by me!"
And he grinned impudently in the face of Mac Strann. The latter, who had
been sitting with slightly bent head, now raised it and looked the pair
over carelessly; there was in his eye the same dumb curiosity which
Haw-Haw Langley had seen many a time in the eye of a bull, leader of the
herd.
The giant explained carefully: "I mean, they's a friend of mine that's
been sittin' in that chair."
"If I ain't your friend," answered the black-haired brother instantly,
"it ain't any fault of mine. Lay it up to yourself, partner!"
Mac Strann stretched out his hand on the surface of the table.
He said: "I got an idea you better get out of that chair."
The other turned his head slowly on all sides and then looked Mac Strann
full in the face.
"Maybe they's something wrong with my eyes," he said, "but I don't see
no reason."
The little dialogue had lasted long enough to focus all eyes on the
table at the end of the room, and therefore there were many witnesses to
what followed. The arm of Mac Strann shot out; his hand fastened in the
collar of the black-haired man's shirt, and the latter was raised from
his seat and propelled to one side by a convulsive jerk. He probably
would have been sent crashing into the bar had not his shirt failed
under the strain. It ripped in two at the shoulders, and the seeker
after action, naked to the waist, went reeling back to the middle of the
room, before he gained his balance.
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