"Are you going to Linrock ?" he asked thickly.
I eyed him with an entirely different glance from my other fearful one.
"I should smile," was my reply, as caustic as the most reckless cowboy's, and I saw him shake.
Colonel Sampson laid a restraining hand upon Wright.

Then they both regarded me with undisguised interest.

I sauntered away.
"George, your temper'll do for you some day," I heard the colonel say.
"You'll get in bad with the wrong man some time.

Hello, here are Joe and Brick!" Mention of these fellows engaged my attention once more.
I saw two cowboys, one evidently getting his name from his brick-red hair.

They were the roistering type, hard drinkers, devil-may-care fellows, packing guns and wearing bold fronts--a kind that the Rangers always called four-flushes.
However, as the Rangers' standard of nerve was high, there was room left for cowboys like these to be dangerous to ordinary men.
The little one was Joe, and directly Wright spoke to him he turned to look at me, and his thin mouth slanted down as he looked.