Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 24: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

14 the fingers working rapidly over the pack. Now and then he glanced over to the crowd, as if to enjoy their admiration of his skill. He was showing it now, not so much by the deftness of his cheating as by the open- ness with which he exposed his tricks. As the stranger remarked to Pierre, a child could have discovered that the cards were being dealt at will from the top and ‘the bottom of the pack, but the gambler was enjoying himself by keeping his game just open enough to be apparent to every other man in the room—just covert enough to deceive the drmk-misted brain of Coch- rane. And the pale, swinish eyes twinkled as they stared across at the dull sorrow of the old man. There was an ominous sound from Pierre: ‘ “Do you let a thing like that happen in this country?”’ he asked frercely. The other turned to him with a sneer. “ Let it happen? Who'll stop him? Say, partner, you ain’t meanin’ to say that vou don’t know who Hurley is?” ‘“‘T don’t need telling. I can see.” ‘“What you can’t see means a lot more than what you can. I’ve been in the same reom when Hurley worked his gun once. It wasn’t any killin’, but it was the prettiest bit of cheatin’ I ever seen. But even if Hurley wasn’t enough, what about Carl Diaz?” He glared his triumph at Pierre, but the latter was toe puzzled to quail, and too stirred by the pale, gloomy face of Coch- rane to turn toward the other. “What of Diaz?”’ “Look here, boy. You're a kid, all right, but you ain’t that young. D’you mean to say that you ain’t heard of Carlos Diaz?”’ It came back to Pierre then, for even mmto the snow-bound seclusion of the north country the shadow of the name of Diaz had gone. He could not remember just what they were, but he seemed to recollect grim tales through which that name figured. The other went on: ‘ But if you ain’t ever seen him before, look him over now. They’s some says he’s faster on the draw than Bob McGurk, but, of course, that’s stretchin’ him out a size too much. What’s the matter, kid: you’ve met McGurk?” ‘No, but I’m going to.” THE ARGOSY. ‘‘ Might even be carried to him, eh—feet first?”’ Pierre turned and latd a hand on the shoulder of the other. ‘Don’t talk like that,” he said gently. ‘“*T don’t like it.” The other reached up to snatch the hand from his shoulder, but he stayed his arm. He said after an uncomfortable moment of that silent staring: ‘‘ Well, partner, there ain’t a hell of a lot to get sore over, is there? You don’t figure you're a mate for McGurk, do you?” He seemed oddly relieved when the eyes of Pierre moved away: from him and re- turned to the figure of Carlos Diaz. The Mexican was a perfect model for a paint- ing of a melodramatic villain. He had waxed and twirled the end of his black mustache so that it thrust out a little spur on either side of his long face. His habitual expression was a scowl; his habitual posi- tion was with a cigarette in the fingers of his left hand, and his right hand resting on his hip. He sat in a chair directly behind that of Hurley, and Pierre’s new-found acquaint- ance explained: ‘‘ He’s the bodyguard for Hurley. Maybe there’s some who could down Hurley in a straight gun fight; maybe © there’s one or two like McGurk that could down Diaz—damn his yellow hide—but there ain’t no one can buck the two of ’em. It ain’t in reason. So they play the game together. Hurley works the cards and Diaz covers up the retreat. Can’t beat that, can you?” | Pierre le Rouge slipped his left hand once more inside his shirt until the fingers touched the cross. ‘* Nevertheless, that game has to stop.” ‘“ Who’ll—say, kid, are you stringin’ me, or are you drunk? Look me in the eye!” CHAPTER VI. FEAR. PIERRE turned and looked calmty upon the other. And the man whispered im a sort of awe: ‘Well, Ill be damned!” ‘“‘ Stand aside!” COMIClOO (@ S ©