ithout it he would be in the power of
any spindling gambler who faced a dishonest ace. It would be necessary to
procure another weapon before proceeding with his purpose ... ten dollars,
perhaps fifteen; revolvers were highly priced in the turbulent distant
wild. Could he afford to lose that amount from his slender store of
dollars? Intact it was absurdly inadequate. He debated the choice--on one
hand the peril of gambling unarmed, on the other his desperate need for
money. Once more he considered Clare: in the end his arrogance of manhood
brought a decision--he would preserve the money for play. He was, he
thought insolently of himself, quick as a copperhead snake, and as
dangerous. After supper he sat on the porch, twisting and consuming
cigarettes, waiting for the night.

X

Large kerosene lamps dilated by tin reflectors lit the front of the Steel
Spud. In their radiance he saw the gaily-attired form of a woman. She wore
a white hat, with a sweeping, white ostrich plume, which hid her face with
the exception of a retreating chin and prominent, carmine lips; while a
fat, unwieldy body was covered by a waist of Scotch plaid silk--lines and
squares of black and primary colors--and a short, scant skirt of blue
broadcloth that, drawn up by her knees, exposed small feet in white kid
and heavy ankles.

Gordon Makimmon paused, and she leaned forward to meet his challenging
gaze. "Just in from camp?" she inquired, in a voice hoarse, repellent,
conciliatory, and with a mechanical grimace which he identified as a
smile. He stopped at the invitation in her tones, and nodded. "And looking
for a good time," he further informed her; "perhaps a little game."

"Stop right where you are," she declared. "You've found them both." He
mounted to the porch, and shook her extended hand, cushioned with fat,
and oddly damp and lifeless. He could see her countenance now--it was
plaster white with insignificant features and rose like an amorphous
column from a swollen throat, a nose like a dab of putty, eyes obscured by
drooping, pouchy lids, leaden-hued.

"It's a good thing you seen me," she told him, endeavoring to establish a
relationship of easy confidence, "instead of them diseased Mags down the
street. Shall we have a little drink upstairs?"

"It's early," he negligently interposed; "how about a turn of the cards
first? Do you know any one who would take a hand?"

"I got my friend here, and there's a gentleman at the hotel