"
Sweat stood out upon the forehead of the heavy-paunched proprietor as
with a flabby-faced grin he set out the bottle. But the Texan caught the
snake-like flash of the eyes with which the man signalled to the croupier
across the room. Gun in hand, he whirled:
"No, you don't, Toney!" An ugly blue-black automatic dropped to the
floor and the croupier's hands flew ceilingward.
"I never seen such an outfit to be always a-reachin'," grinned the
cowpuncher. "Well, if there ain't the ol' eagle-bird wheel! Give her a
spin, Toney! They say you can't hit an eagle on the fly with a six-gun,
but I'm willin' to try! Spin her good, 'cause I don't want no onfair
advantage of that there noble bird. Stand back, Greasers, so you don't
get nicked!"
As the croupier spun the wheel, three shots rang in an almost continuous
explosion and the gamblers fell over each other in an effort to dodge the
flying splinters that filled the powder-fogged air.
"Little black bull slid down the mountain,
L-o-n-g t-i-m-e ago!"
roared the Texan as he threw open the cylinder of his gun.
"H-e-e-e-e scraped his horn on a hickory saplin',
L-o-n-g t-i-m-e ago----"
There was a sudden commotion behind him, a swift rush of feet, a muffled
thud, and a gasping, agonized grunt. The next instant the huge acetelyne
lamp that lighted the room fell to the floor with a crash and the place
was plunged in darkness.
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