man say you must be dead.'

Courtot considered him gravely. Longstreet regarded the man,
fascinated. He did not believe that the man knew how to smile. To
imagine Jim Courtot laughing was to fancy a statue laughing.

'When there's a big game pulled off and I'm not there, kid,' he
answered when he was good and ready to answer, 'it's because there's a
bigger game somewhere else. And I'm heeled to play in your little game
if you think you're man enough to take me on.'

Barbee snarled at him.

'Damn you,' he said savagely.

Jim Courtot drew up his chair and sat down. There was a strange sort
of swiftness and precision in the man's smallest acts. Now he brought
from his hip pocket a handful of loose coins and set the heap on the
table before him. For the most part the coins were gold; he stood
ready to put into play several hundred dollars.

'Heeled, kid,' he repeated. The voice was as nearly dead and
expressionless as a human voice can be; only the words themselves
carried his insolence. 'Please, can I play in your game?'

To Barbee's youth it was plain challenge and, though he hated the man
with his whole soul, Barbee's youth answered hotly:

'I'll take you on, Jim Courtot, any day.'

Thereafter Courtot ignored Barbee. He turned to Longstreet and watched
him deal five cards face down. Then he appeared to lose interest in
everything saving his own hand. Longstreet dealt the second five
cards, faces up. They fell in the order of nine, four, jack, ace and,
to himself, a seven. He did not believe that the new player had seen
any but his own card. Barbee, to whose lot the ace had fallen, placed
his bet. There was bright bitter challenge in his eyes as he stared
across the table at Courtot.

'Ten bucks to start her off,' he said shortly.

Longstreet had supposed it customary to begin with a dollar; in his
mind, however, there was little difference between one and ten.
Therefore he made no remark and placed his own money in the pot. The
two Mexicans tossed their cards away. Courtot, looking at no one, and
without speaking, came in. Longstreet dealt a second round. Now
Courtot had two fours in sight; Barbee had two aces; Longstreet a king
and a seven exposed, but also a king hidden. When Barbee said, 'Twenty
bucks to play,' and said it viciously with a jeering stare at Courtot,
Longstreet began counting out his money. But before he had completed
the slow process the street door opened.

It was