Pete
turned his head and surveyed the long room leisurely. The Spider
pushed the bottle toward him, silently inviting him to drink again.
Pete shook his head. The Spider hobbled from behind the bar and moving
quickly across the room flung open the back door, discovering a patio
set with tables and chairs. Pete nodded.
They were establishing a tentative understanding without speech. The
test was hard for Pete. The Spider was uncanny--though quick of
movement and shifty of eye--intensely alive withal.
As for The Spider himself, he was not displeased. This was but a
youth, yet a youth who was not unfamiliar with the fine points of a
rendezvous. The back door opened on a patio and the door in the wall
of the patio opened on a corral. The corral bars opened to the
desert--Pete had almost sensed that, without seeing farther than the
patio, and had nodded his approval, without speaking. The Spider
considered this highly commendable.
Pete knew at a glance that The Spider was absolutely without
honor--that his soul was as crooked as his badly bowed legs; and that
he called no man friend and meant it.
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