eriority in that line. Finally, above the uproar, Cowan's bellow was
herd, and he kept it up until some notice was taken of it. "Shut up!
_Shut up_! For God's sake, _quit_! Never saw such a bunch of tinder--let
somebody drop a cold, burned-out match in this gang, an' hell's to pay.
Here, _all_ of you, play cards an' forget about cross-tag in the scrub.
You'll be arguing about playing marbles in the dark purty soon!"

"All right," muttered Johnny, "but just the same, the man who--"

"Never mind about the man who! Did you hear _me_?" yelled Cowan, swiftly
reaching for a bucket of water. "_This_ is a game where _I_ gets the
most in, an' don't forget it!"

"Come on; play cards," growled Lucas, who did not relish having his
decision questioned on his own story. Undoubtedly somewhere in the wide,
wide world there was such a thing as common courtesy, but none of it had
ever strayed onto that range.

The chairs scraped on the rough floor as the men pulled up to a table.
"I don't care a hang," came Elkins' final comment as he shuffled the
cards with careful attention. "I'm not any fancy Colt expert, but I'm
damned if I won't take a chance in that game with any man as totes a
gun. Leastawise, of _course_, I wouldn't take no such advantage of a
lame man."

The effect would have been ludicrous but for its deadly significance.
Cowan, stooping to go under the bar, remained in that hunched-up
attitude, his every faculty concentrated in his ears; the match on its
way to the cigarette between Red's lips was held until it burned his
fingers, when it was dropped from mere reflex action, the hand still
stiffly aloft; Lucas, half in and half out of his chair, seemed to have
got just where he intended, making no effort to seat himself. Skinny
Thompson, his hand on his gun, seemed paralyzed; his mouth was open
to frame a reply that never was uttered and he stared through narrowed
eyelids at the blunderer. The sole movement in the room was the slow
rising of Hopalong and the markedly innocent shuffling of the cards by
Elkins, who appeared to be entirely ignorant of the weight and effect of
his words. He dropped the pack for the cut and then looked up and around
as if surprised by the silence and the expressions he saw.

Hopalong stood facing him, leaning over with both hands on the table.
His voice, when he spoke, rumbled up from his chest in a low growl. "You
won't _have_ no advantage, Elkins. Take it from me, you've had yore last
fling