motives to any man," Von Tromp said stiffly, then in hasty afterthought: "The man certainly will need counsel. I wish to advise him of his rights and offer him my services. Therefore, Blunt, I want you to see the sheriff and arrange an audience for me with the prisoner." The man from Cheyenne flushed angrily.
Original was spinning the chambers of his .45, the hammer held back by a thumb which suddenly appeared to Von Tromp all too insecure in its hold. He slipped the weapon under the spring on the pad holster and donned his jacket before answering.
"Mr. Von Tromp, I don't borrow nothin' but bad luck and lightnin' and I never was raised a pet, so I don't make it a point to balk at most orders howsomever they come. But this time I pass. Looks to me like it would n't put new paint on your reputation nor on mine especial to have me dancin' up to Red Agnew an' begging an invitation for you to come down an' take tea with the Killer. Nobody knows you for a representative of—well, of certain people, but the minute they see me hooked up with a lawyer who wants to break into the Killer, they 'll know it 's true."
"What is true?" Von Tromp challenged.
