Just outside of the portal, Dicky and the Danfords stopped and set down their luggage.
To the man eating the sandwich, the New Yorker said, “Excuse me, sir.”
The fellow looked up. A large hunk of ham dangled like a stupid tongue from the two pieces of seeded pumpernickel that were wedged in his mouth. The gambler tightened his grip upon the studded pommel of his revolver, and the Danfords imitated statues while keeping their hands near their hips. Two of the oldsters looked up from their newspapers as the mother ran to her children, looking over her shoulder at the trio.
Dicky asked, “Are any men standing at either side of this door or beside any of the open windows?”
The man shook his head. A drop of mustard dribbled from the ham like slobber.
The three men outside the station door r
