"And if you want to put up for the night there ain't nobody more hospital than the Chief.

Right in here, son." The door yawned.

He could not see, for his back was resolutely toward it and he was gripping the cover of the book hard to steady his hands; but he felt a breath of colder air from the outer hall; he felt above all a new presence peering in upon him, like a winter-starved lynx that might flatten its round face against the window and peer in at the lazy warmth and comfort of the humans around the hearth inside.

Some such feeling sent a chill through Lawlor's blood.
"Hello!" called Calamity Ben.
"Humph!" grunted Lawlor.
"Got a visitor, Mr.Drew." "Bring him in." And Lawlor cleared his throat.
"All right, here he is." The door closed, and Lawlor snapped the book shut.
"Drew!" said a low voice.
The cowpuncher turned in his chair.

He had intended to rise, but at the sound of that controlled menace he knew that his legs were too weak to answer that purpose.