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The Night Horseman by Max Brand
page 98 of 353 (27%)

"What in hell d'you think this is?" bellowed this gentle creature, and
the tone echoed heavily back from all four walls. "You're three hours
late and you get no chuck here. On your way, stranger!"

Buck Daniels elevated himself slowly from the chair and stood at his
full height. With a motion fully as deliberate he removed his sombrero
and bowed to such a depth that the brim of the hat brushed the floor.

"Lady," he said humbly, "I was thinkin' that some gent run this here
eatin' place. Which if you'll excuse me half a minute I'll ramble
outside and sluice off some of the dust. If I'd known you was here I
wouldn't of thought of comin' in here like this."

The lady with the defective eyes glared fiercely at him. Her judgment
wavered two ways. Her first inclination was to hold that the fellow was
jibing at her covertly, and she followed her original impulse far enough
to clasp a neighboring sugar-bowl in a large, capable hand. A second and
more merciful thought entered her brain and stole slowly through it,
like a faint echo in a great cave.

"You don't have to make yourself pretty to talk to me," she said
thoughtfully. "But if you're here for chow you're too late."

"Ma'am," said Buck Daniels instantly, "when I come in here I was hungry
enough to eat nails; but I'll forget about chuck if you'll sit down an'
chin with me a while."

The large hand of the cross-eyed lady stole out once more and rested
upon the sugar-bowl.
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