The Land of Strong Men Part 16

At the fair Angus had a number of exhibits of ranch produce, cattle, and his team of young drivers. The night before the race he had been arranging his exhibits. This done he had supper, strolled around for an hour, and then returned to the National House, which was the leading hotel, in search of a man to whom he hoped to sell a few head of cattle.

He got the number of his prospective customer's room, but apparently he had been misinformed, for the room held a poker game in full blast, the players being Gavin and Gerald French, two somewhat hard-faced strangers, and a young fellow about his own age whom he set down as an Englishman.

The French boys nodded a greeting.

"Hold on a minute," said Gerald as Angus would have withdrawn. "I want to see you."

So Angus remained, and standing behind Gerald watched the play.

One of the strangers dealt. On the draw Gerald held a full house; and yet he dropped out, as did Gavin. The Englishman who stayed lost most of his remaining stack. But the winning stranger did not seem elated. He scowled at the pot as he took it in.

Wondering what intuition had bade Gerald lay down a full--for the pot had been won by fours--Angus continued to watch the game. The deal came to Gerald, who riffled the cards.

"Time we had a drink," said he and rising brushed past Angus to touch a wall b.u.t.ton. Reseating himself he began to deal.

One of the strangers opened. Gerald, as Angus could see, had nothing.

Nevertheless he stayed, drawing three cards. Everybody stayed. The betting was brisk, and the pile of chips in the center grew. Gerald was the first to drop out. One of the strangers and the Englishman followed suit. Thus it was between the remaining stranger and Gavin. They proceeded to raise each other.

"If the limit was something worth while," said the stranger, "I could get proper action on this hand."

"It's high enough for these ranchers," the other stranger observed.

"They don't like a hard game."

"What would you like?" Gavin queried.

"If you're game to lift it, you can come after a hundred."

Gavin, reaching into his pocket, brought forth a sheaf of currency from which he stripped two bills.

"_And_ a hundred," he said.

The stranger's breath sucked hard through his teeth. His companion glanced swiftly and suspiciously at him and then at Gerald.

"This started out as a friendly game," he observed, a note of warning in his voice.

"Well, there's his hundred," the player said. "What you got? Come on--show 'em." He leaned forward.

"All the bullets," Gavin replied. He spread four aces face up, while his other hand reached for the pot.

The other stranger leaned forward, also, peering at the cards. Suddenly he started and his hand shot toward them. But Gavin's fell on it, pinning it to the table.

"What are you trying to do?" he demanded. Beneath the coldness of his tone there was something hard and menacing. The stranger wrenched to free his hand. It remained pinned in Gavin's grasp.

"I want to see those cards!" he cried with an oath.

"Where do you come in?" Gavin asked. "You didn't call me."

"But I did," the losing stranger broke in. "I want to see those cards, and I'm going to."

"You're looking at them now," Gavin pointed out.

Gerald coolly swept up the cards.

"I dealt them," he said. "They look all right to me. Four aces and a club seven. Take a look at them, Mackay, and see if this man has anything to kick at."

Thus appealed to, Angus took the cards. "I don't see anything wrong with them," he said.

"You don't, hey?" cried the loser. "I'm wise to you now. You did it, did you?"

"Did what?" Angus queried.

"Slipped him a cold deck!" the other roared. "You did it when he got up to press the b.u.t.ton."

"I did nothing of the sort!" Angus denied in amazement.

"You're a liar!" the other shrilled. "D'ye think we're going to be cold-decked by a bunch of hicks?" He turned to Gavin. "Come through with that money, or----"

"Or what?" Gavin asked.

By way of bluff or otherwise the stranger resorted to the old, cogent argument. His right hand dropped swiftly. But as it did so Gavin thrust the table forward violently. The man went backward, chair and all.

Gerald pounced on him like a leopard, caught his arm and twisted a short-barreled gun from the clutching fingers. Gavin, with equal quickness and less effort, caught and disarmed the other man, who without a word had reached for his gun to back his friend.

"Bad actors, you two!" Gerald sneered. "Gamblers--gunmen. Shocking!

What'll we do with them, Gan?"

"Let 'em go," said the big man contemptuously, releasing his captive and flipping the cartridges from the gun. "Beat it, you blighters, and pick out easier marks next time."

"You big crook!" snarled the owner of the gun, "I'll get you----"

He never finished the sentence, for Gavin was on him. He caught him by the clothes above his breast, lifted him clear and slammed him back against the wall. There he held him, pinned with one hand, like a moth in a show-case.

"Get me, will you?" he growled hoa.r.s.ely. "If I hit you, you cheap tinhorn, you'd never get me or anybody else. Try to get me, and I'll break your back over my knee. Like this!"

He plucked the man away from the wall as if he had been a doll, and threw him, back down, across his knee. For an instant he held him, and then set him on his feet. The man's face was the dead gray of asbestos paper.

"Git!" Gavin commanded. "Don't fool around here or make any more bluffs.

Get out of town."

When the two strangers had gone, Gerald laughed gently.

"This breaks up our game, I guess," he said. "By the way--Angus Mackay--Mr. Chetwood."

The two young men shook hands. Chetwood was a long-limbed young fellow with the old-country color fresh in his cheeks, frank blue eyes with a baby stare which would have been a credit to any ingenue, but which held an occasional twinkle quite at variance with their ordinary expression.

Angus was inclined to like him. Chetwood, on his part, eyed the lean, hard, sinewy bulk of Angus with admiration.

"I say, what was all the row about?" he asked Gerald. "They accused you of cheating, what?"

"Old game," said Gerald carelessly. "They went up against an unbeatable hand, lost more than they could afford, and tried to run a bluff. They were both crooks, anyway."