Tex stormed up to the bar and slammed two silver dollars on it. "Take this dirty money an’ give th’ boys cigars for it," he growled. "Me, I’m not smokin’ any of ’em. Fire me, huh? I’d like to see th’ section-boss that fires me! ’Overpaid,’ he says, an’ me workin’ like a dog! ’I don’t need ye tomorry,’ he says: I cussed soon told him what he needed, but he didn’t wait for it. Fire me?" he sneered. "Like h--l!" The cavalrymen grinned sympathetically and nodded their thanks for the cigars, which they had no little difficulty in lighting. The other men in the room took their gifts silently, two of them abruptly pushing them across the table, away from them. "There’ll be others that’ll mebby git what they’re needin’," said a rasping, unsteady voice from a corner table. "’Specially if he sticks his nose in where it ain’t wanted." Tex casually turned and nodded innocently. "My sentiments exactly," he agreed, waiting to receive unequivocal notification that it was he for whom the warning was meant. A little stupidity was often a useful thing. "Nobody asked you for yore sentiments," retorted the prospector. "Strangers can’t come into this town an’ carry things with a high hand. Next time, Jake will kill you." Tex looked surprised and then his eyes glinted. "That bein’ a little job he can start ’most any time," he retorted. "When a man fights worse’n a dog he makes me mad; an’ he fought like a cur. I’d do it ag’in. He got what he was needin’, that’s all." The miner glowered at him. "An’ he’s got friends, Jake has," he asserted. "Tell him that he’ll need ’em--all of ’em," sneered Tex. "Our little session was plumb personal, but I’ll let in his friends. Th’ gate’s wide open. They don’t have to dig in under th’ fence, or sit on their haunches outside an’ howl. An’ let me tell you somethin’ for yore personal benefit--I’ve swallered all I aim to swaller tonight. I’m peaceable an’ not lookin’ for no trouble--you hold yore yap till I get through talkin’--but I ain’t dodgin’ none. Somehow I seem to be out of step in this town; but I’m whistlin’ that I’m cussed particular about who sets me right. I ain’t got no grudges ag’in’ nobody; I’m tryin’ to act accordin’ to my lights, but I ain’t apologizin’ to nobody for them lights. Anybody objectin’?" "Fair enough," said one of the cavalrymen. "I like his frank ways." "That rides for me, too," endorsed his companion, aggressively. "Shut up, you!" cried the bartender. "For two bits--" pugnaciously began a miner, but he was cut short. "An’ you, too!" barked the man behind the counter, a gun magically appearing over the edge of the bar. "This has gone far enough! Stranger, you spoke yore piece fair. Tom," he said, looking at the angry miner, "you got nothin’ more to say: yo’re all through. If you think you has, then go outside an’ shout it there. Th’ subject is closed. What’ll you-all have?"