"A friend made me a present; I share it with the others.

Besides, in cold weather it keeps one warm." "How long have you worked here ?" "Three days." "There's a camp order: 'No liquor allowed in camp.' You can't say that you don't know it, for it's posted everywhere on placards in English and in Spanish." He received no response.

A faint shrug of the shoulders, perhaps.

The Mexican's glistening, sinister eyes, on the other hand, continued as rigid as orbs of polished agate, and his face as expressionless.
"Well, we'll lock you up and see if we can learn who your 'friend' is that sent this barrel in," Lee stated.
There was a slight movement of the man's elbow.
"Watch him--his right hand!" Pat cried, sharply.
The hand had darted swiftly to the fellow's hip, but Bryant's fist was as quick.

It shot up, catching the man's jaw and hoisting him off his feet.