He saw the man with the
pinched features reach swiftly back of him and slide a rifle away from
its concealed place against the wall. He saw the other's hand go
flash-like under his coat and under his left arm-pit. He caught in
both faces a sudden and black malignity which told him, beyond
question, that they would not play but would kill.
Of course too he knew why and he made a point of standing there with
every evidence of having seen nothing or suspected nothing.
After that first glance he also carefully avoided the mirror which
might work revelation to them as well as to himself. Eventually he
turned, not directly toward them but toward the other end of the room
and carelessly walked its length that he might give emphasis to his
unhurried seeming before he came slowly about.
When he did so the two men sat as before. The rifle had already
disappeared. The hand that had swept holster-ward had swept out again.
Both faces were blankly unconcerned.
Brent dropped into a chair near the door and listened as the clatter
inside increased. The rats scrambled about with a multiplicity of
light gnawing sounds and the clicking of some trifles unstably
balanced.
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