But he wore them with an air that made him well dressed.
Foy paused for a second; Applegate rose.
"Well, Chris!" he laughed.

"There has been a time when you might not have fancied this particular bunch--hey?
All over now, please the pigs.

Come in and give it a name.

Beer for mine." "I'll smoke," said Foy.
"Me too," said Espalin.
He lit a cigar and returned to his chair.

Ben Creagan passed behind the bar and handed over a sixshooter and a cartridge belt.
"Here, Chris--here's the gun I borrowed of you when I broke mine.