The gleaming butts of two pistols that peeped out of his waistband gave a touch of piquancy to his appearance.

His black eyes were restless and sparkling with excitement.

He wavered slightly in his gait, and his speech was just thick enough to confirm what his appearance suggested, and what he was careful to declare somewhat superfluously, that he was "on a -- -- of a spree." "I am a-huntin' for a -- -- furriner 'at I promised to run out of town before to-morrow mornin'.

Is he in here!" He tried to stand still, but finding this difficult, advanced.
A pause fell in the conversation around the stove.

Two or three of the men, after a civil enough greeting, hitched themselves into a more comfortable posture in their chairs, and it was singular, though Keith did not recall it until afterwards, that each of them showed by the movement a pistol on his right hip.
After a general greeting, which in form was nearer akin to an eternal malediction than to anything else, Mr.Bluffy walked to the bar.