To hear him with his youthful face, and sprouting moustaches, calling himself by such a name, caused Ezra to smile. Instantly the face of Gilbert Scarlett changed.
“But it seems that I am wasting good time speaking with you,” said he, coldly. “I find that men of experience are not understood by colonials.” His hard, black eyes ran over the lines of the tall bay horse which Ezra bestrode, and he proceeded, “That is a fair-looking charger. Anyhow, it’s the best to be had at this time, I suppose. So do me the favor to get down.”
Ezra looked at the speaker in some surprise.
“The situation is so plain,” proclaimed Gilbert Scarlett, “that I can scarcely see the need of an explanation. But, since you ask for one, here it is. My horse can go no farther. Yours can. So, as I have urgent affairs to transact, I propose that we make an exchange.”
“It would seem that your military schooling has taught you to expect the better of a bargain, if nothing else,” said Ezra quietly.
“It would have been of very little value if it hadn’t,” said he. He once more hitched at his sword belt, and this time the movement held the elements of a threat. “But,” he went on, “that is neither here nor there. We will come to the exchange at once, if you please.”
“I am glad that you mentioned that last,” smiled Ezra. “Suppose I don’t please?”
The points of the spiky moustache went up and the heavy black brows came down.
“In that event,” said Gilbert Scarlett, “I shall be forced to alter your mind.”
A little earlier, Ezra had had before him a youthful, careless face, had listened to boastful, empty speech and had smiled. But in an instant all was altered. The face was now hard and lined; the careless mouth was tight shut and cruel looking, the voice was sharp and peremptory.
“Once more—and for the last time, mark you—I invite you to get down.”
“I think your contempt for colonials has led you astray,” said Ezra, still with a smile. “We do not give up our belongings so easily in this part of the world.”
The man took a step forward, his breath seeming to hiss between his teeth; then his sword flashed out of its scabbard. But at the same instant Ezra’s long holster pistol came into play. The afternoon light gleamed dully upon the steel barrel, as he supported it in the hollow of his left arm.