"No. I agreed to let you fight when you wanted. To kill a man when
you liked! ... That was the agreement."
"What'd I kill a man for?"
No one answered that in words, but the answer was there, in dark
faces.
"I know what I meant," continued Gulden. "And I'm going to keep this
nugget."
There was a moment's silence. It boded ill to the giant.
"So--he declares himself," said Blicky, hotly. "Boss, what you say
goes."
"Let him keep it," declared Kells, scornfully. "I'll win it from him
and divide it with the gang."
That was received with hoarse acclaims by all except Gulden. He
glared sullenly. Kells stood up and shook a long finger in the
giant's face.
"I'll win your nugget," he shouted. "I'll beat you at any game. ...
I call your hand. ... Now if you've got any nerve!"
"Come on!" boomed the giant, and he threw his gold down upon the
table with a crash.
The bandits closed in around the table with sudden, hard violence,
all crowding for seats.
"I'm a-goin' to set in the game!" yelled Blicky.
"We'll all set in," declared Jesse Smith.
"Come on!" was Gulden's acquiescence.
"But we all can't play at once," protested Kells. "Let's make up two
games."
"Naw!"
"Some of you eat, then, while the others get cleaned out."
"Thet's it--cleaned out!" ejaculated Budd, meanly. "You seem to be
sure, Kells. An' I guess I'll keep shady of thet game."
"That's twice for you, Budd," flashed the bandit leader. "Beware of
the third time!"
"Hyar, fellers, cut the cards fer who sets in an' who sets out,"
called Blicky, and he slapped a deck of cards upon the table.
With grim eagerness, as if drawing lots against fate, the bandits
bent over and drew cards. Budd, Braverman, and Beady Jones were the
ones excluded from the game.
"Beady, you fellows unpack those horses and turn them loose. And
bring the stuff inside," said Kells.
Budd showed a surly disregard, but the other two bandits got up
willingly and went out.
Then the game began, with only Cleve standing, looking on. The
bandits were mostly silent; they moved their hands, and occasionally
bent forward. It was every man against his neighbor. Gulden seemed
implacably indifferent and played like a machine. Blicky sat eager
and excited, under a spell. Jesse Smith was a slow, cool, shrewed
gambler. Bossert and Pike, two ruffians almost unknown to Joan,
appeared carried away by their opportunity. And Kells began to wear
that strange, rapt, weak expression that gambling gave him.