THE tequila smelled like rotten eggs and tasted like carbolic acid slightly diluted with ground glass, but “Poco” Kelly drank it down without the slightest change in the expression on his face.
tequila“How much?” he asked.
The greasy mestizo behind the bar was an excellent judge of character. He had to be in this place. One mistake, and they buried him. He took a calculating look at Poco Kelly. He saw an immensely tall man with a long, gaunt face and rust-colored hair and huge hands and feet. Poco Kelly looked thin, in fact, skinny, until examined closely, then it was discovered he just wasn’t carrying any spare flesh.
mestizoHis face was a bony caricature that looked as though he had been thoroughly worked over with a war club when he was very young. His nose was bent crookedly, his ja
