[Beth Norvell by Randall Parrish]@TWC D-Link book
Beth Norvell

CHAPTER VIII
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If he really intended to play out this game successfully he must learn something of its conditions.

Besides, he had now two most excellent reasons for desiring to form an early acquaintance with this man Farnham--the fellow had come across his line of life twice within the past twelve hours.

For the purpose there could be no time better than the present.

He struck a match against the rough railing and lighted for himself a fresh cigar, his clear-cut, manly features showing calmly determined in that instant glare of sputtering flame.
Almost unconsciously, following the instinct of his long Western training, he slipped a revolver from its customary resting-place at the hip, and dropped the weapon conveniently into the side pocket of his loose sack coat.

He had heard some tales of this man he purposed seeking, and it might prove well to be prepared for emergencies.
The bar-room of the blazing Poodle-Dog was thronged with men--men standing before the long, sloppy bar, men seated around rough tables, and men lounging here and there in groups about the heavily sanded floor.


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