”Mind if we join you?”
”Sure,” the scout said with a smile. “What have you been up to, Kit?”
”Oh, this and that. I hear you’ve been exploring unknown gates.”
”Sure have,” Ripley grinned. His dark hair needed washing. He smelled bad, like month-old gym socks left to soak in mare’s sweat. The regulars at the Down Time had taken tables upwind of him.
Doesn’t this jerk ever bathe?
”So, I hear you checked out a gate in Phil Jones’ place.”
Ripley took a long pull of his own beer. “Yep.”
”Odd place for a gate to open up. Of course, they’ve opened in stranger places.” Kit smiled politely.
”You’re telling me. How come you’re interested in gates again? Thought you’d retired?”
”Oh, just curious. I like to keep up with the business.”
Ripley laughed. “You’re not fooling anybody, Kit. You want to know about that gate worse than I want to get rich. It’ll cost you.” His eyes glinted.
”Really?” Kit leaned back and folded his hands across his belly. “You’d charge a man for information on a worthless gate? Hell, l’ll just wait until it cycles again and take a look, myself.”
Ripley chuckled. -Nope. You’re too cautious. You’ve been through too damned many gates, Kit Carson. You want to step through that bad, it’ll really cost you to find out whether or not you’ll go `pool’ before you hit the other side.”
Kit restrained the urge to throttle him.
Malcolm leaned forward on his elbows. “You’re an unpleasant louse for someone who just spent a week in some poor schmuck’s harem, getting his wives pregnant while he was off fighting the Christians.”