f his mind.
"Finish up your work, Vic?"
"You sure worked yourself all thin. I hope somebody appreciates it." She chuckled. "Ain't been sick, have you?"
"Say, who d!you think's in town? Sheriff Glass!"
This information sank in on him while he tugged at a boot at least a size and half too small.
"Pete Glass!" he echoed. Then: "Who's he after?"
"I dunno. Vic, he don't look like such a bad one."
"He's plenty bad enough," Gregg assured her. "Ah-h-h!"
His foot ground into place, torturing his toes.
'"Well," considered Mrs. Pym, in a philosophic rumble, "I s'pose them quiet gents is the dangerous ones, mostly; but looking at Glass you wouldn't think he'd ever killed all those men. Know about the dance?"
"Down to Singer's place. Betty goin' with you?"
He jerked open the door and barked down at her: "Who else would she be goin' with?"
"Don't start pullin' leather before the horse bucks," said Mrs. Pym. "I