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Page 151
back starts jawin' at me, callin' me names, tellin' me an old fart like me should crawl out in the alley and do my drinkin' there."
"And you shot him because he wanted your barstool?" Miller's voice had a ring of incredulity to it. It was just one more reason to solidify his conviction of "no gun, no problem."
"I get tired of gettin' pushed around," Pasquel muttered. "Them young fellers think just because I'm an old man, they can do any damn thing they wanta. But, I'll tell you somethin', they learned somethin' last night."
There didn't seem to be much for Bart to say. Pasquel had been around; he knew the game and the score. The old man had to know someone would come for him, no matter how it turned out. Finally, Bartholomew did what he had to do. "You're gonna have to come with me, Pasquel. I've got a warrant. I'll have to take you over to Port Isabel."
Pasquel Morgan looked up at him. There was the haunted, disappointed look of passing years in his aging eyes. "You gonna give me time to button up this old place afore the storm hits? Iffin' I beat this rap, I wouldn't wanta come back out here and find my things scattered all over the damn island."
Bartholomew detested the old man for making the request. The longer he was delayed, the longer it would be before he could

 
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