Rolfe spoke to MacDonald, but his eyes looked straight at the rest of the freighting crew. “For du and your poy, I buy a drink, friend Mac.” His voice was hard and steady.
Lorenz swung his eyes back to MacDonald and sucked in his breath. If there was ever any doubt of the power in the man's hands, it was gone now. MacDonald had the revolver's grip in one hand and the long muzzle in the other, his body looked relaxed, but his hands were exerting enough force to bend the muzzle.
MacDonald laid the bent firearm on the bar and seemed to eye each man standing there. “Friend Rolfe, I believe I am ready for a brew. I thank ye.”
A medium built man with thinning hair pushed his way through his crew. “God damn it, MacDonald, Jackson just finished putting the wagon back into commission. What are y
