Max Brand

“ But the waitress stared at him in amazement.
"Fire?" she gasped. "A light behind his eyes? M'frien', are you tryin' to string me?"
"What's his name?"
"I dunno."
"Ma'am," said Daniels, rising hastily. "Here's a dollar if you'll take me to him."
"You don't need no guide," she replied. "Listen to that, will you?"
And as he hearkened obediently Buck Daniels heard a strain of whistling, needle-sharp with distance.
"That's him," nodded the woman. "He's always goin' about whistling to himself. Kind of a nut, he is."
"It's him!" cried Buck Daniels. "It's him!" ”

“ The eyes of Buck Daniels wandered.
"Don't you know him?" she asked.
"Nope."
"Never heard of him?"
"Nope."
"Well," sighed the waitress, "you've had some luck in your life. Take a cross between a bulldog and a mustang and a mountain-lion—that's Mac Strann. He's in town, and he's here for killin'."
"You don't say, ma'am. And why don't they lock him up?"
"Because he ain't done nothin' yet to be locked up about. That's the way with him. And when he does a thing he always makes the man he's after pull his gun first. Smart? I'll say he's just like an Indian, that Mac Strann!" ”

“ Buck Daniels retreated to the opposite side of the table and took his place.
"Ma'am," he began, "don't I look honest?" So saying, he slid half a dozen eggs and a section of bacon from the platter to his plate.
"I dunno," said the maiden, with one eye upon him and the other plunging into the future. "There ain't no trusting men. Take 'em by the lot and they're awful forgetful." ”