as he
jammed it across the table, shooting; he could do it before most men
there could even guess that he was going to do it. He knew that very
well. And he knew too, that although he was quick and sure on the draw,
here was a man who was just that wee, deadly fraction of a second
quicker.

As though he would find a flicker in the steady eyes of the other man to
tell him what he wanted to know, he moved his hand, his left, a very,
very little, so little that save at a time like this no man would have
seen. There came no change in Thornton's eyes. The Kid lifted the hand,
laying it with still fingers upon the table before him. Still nothing in
Thornton's eyes to tell that he had seen or had not seen. One second
more the Kid sat motionless, pondered. Then he had decided. The right
hand came up and lay beside the left on the table.

A man at the bar set down his glass and the faint noise against the hard
wood sounded unnaturally loud. Another man ordered a drink, and the low
voice breaking the silence sounded like a shout. Men who had stood in
tense, cramped positions moved, games that had stopped went on. The
strain of a few moments was gone, though still no one lost sight for
more than an instant of Thornton and the Kid.

Bedloe dropped his eyes to his cards, merely turning the corners as they
lay flat on the table. The man who had gotten hastily out of his chair
came back. The game went on as the others were going, silently and
swiftly. The jack pot was opened, "boosted," and grew fat. Bedloe played
a cool hand, and the impression until near the show-down was that he was
not to be reckoned with. Then, a little impudently, as was his way, he
shoved his pile to the centre of the table.

"See that or drop out," he said curtly.

The nervous man dropped out. Two men saw it. They both lost to the Kid's
full hand.

He swept up the gold and silver and slipped it into his pocket, his
hand going very close to his gun during the process but never
hesitating. Then he got to his feet.

"Let's go outside," he said, turning toward Thornton.

He led the way, swinging about so that the broad of his back was to the
man who followed him and the man whom he had sworn to kill. Walking so,
a few paces between them, they passed by the bar, through the clutter of
men about the door and out upon the narrow sidewalk. Still the Kid did
not stop. He strode on, not so much as looking to see if he were
followed, until he came to the middl