cker than I thought he would. The other gamblers could
have squawked that my chips should go into the next pot, but
apparently none of them did.

Lefty sidled out as Nick was paying me off. "Wait outside for
me," I said to him.

"Why not?" he said, sticking his chin out at me and walking out.

Nick grabbed me again. "Don't get hot, Tex," he warned me. "I
don't want a killing on my own sidewalk. Take it some place else,
huh, kid?"

"Sure," I said.

There wasn't any danger Lefty would hang around. I was big enough
to break him in two, which is exactly what I planned if I caught
up with him.

* * * * *

It had been dark for some hours by the time I hit the street and
waved for a skim-copter. Nick's games start late.

"You asked me to wait," somebody said. I spun around and saw
Lefty standing in the alleyway beside the building. I went for
him, charging hard. He scuttled back into the alley, out of what
little light there was that far downtown. Just as I reached for
him, somebody slugged me in the gut. I went down on a knee,
gasping. I hadn't seen his sidekick--the alley was pretty dark.
I heard Lefty's breath suck in sharply as I came up out of my
crouch, diving for him. After all, it was only pain, something
inside my head. It wasn't as though I had been really crippled.
My fingers clawed at his jacket, and would have held him. But the
other guy grabbed at my ankle and threw me down on the slippery
cobbles again.

I came up slower that time. I'd bunged up my kneecap more than I
wanted to think about. Lefty was still out of reach. I called him
a name that was always good for a fight in Texas, and started
after him, but slower than before. I wasn't fast enough to avoid
the hard thing that rammed against my spine. Even down in Texas,
a gun in the back freezes you up.

Lefty was all guts now that I was hung up on the gun barrel. It
might as well have been a meat hook.

"I warned you not to use psi in the game!" he snapped. "Now
you'll have to talk to Pete."

"One of us isn't going to live through this," I promised him,
starting to reach for his throat. The gun jabbed a reminder to
watch my manners.

"Do you come quietly?" Lefty asked shrilly. "Or do we--?"

The sudden shrillness of his voice scared me more than anything
else. He was worked up worse than I was. "Quietly," I conceded,
trying to get some saliva to flow again. The pressure against my
spine eased off.

Lefty s