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Steve Yeager

Chapter 6 PLUCKING A PIGEON

Word Count: 2975    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

or luncheon with the appetite of a harvest hand. During the two days' drive he h

the holdup, so that the dining-room was humming with excitement. A dozen questions we

tly took the stage away from Yeager, whereupon Daisy Ellington absorbed the attention of Steve. She asked a sharp q

lbows on the table and her chin in her little doubled fists. A

el

l, w

e. You're doin'

t's

born yesterday? See any gre

wise, compadre. But the r

ening," s

s I'd hate to go out with the

k on you," she countered gayly. Then, in a lower vo

eyes. "With your imagination, Daisy,-"

hat's on your chest,

'd reached town ten minutes earlier I'd 'a' beat him in and showed him up. Threewit won't hear to it, of

thing shady about the big stiff. And I'll tell you something else you don't know. It'

s to a noiseless w

u what I mean. I've got no evidence. But it's true. She's ridiculously fond of th

his. It almost seemed as if she knew they had been talking about her, for the milky cheek took o

was my

" she asked with a shrug. "Any gink that knows enough to come in out of the rain cou

Already the approach of an Arizona summer was beginning to make itself felt during the middle of t

s smile was so warm and friendly, his manner so boyish and yet so competen

It was always easy to disturb her composure. Even a casual encounter with the slim, brown-faced range-rider was an adv

ed to ask you about

ut it, Mi

know any

s had taken on a film of wariness that b

" She tried a new start. "Did you s

hem," he

f her lip. "The others were-

dn't

Steve looked up, in time to catch the flash o

a pipe-dream, Ruth. Don't wa

rusively and le

on a vacation," sai

ated his hatband with steady finge

olks find this climate don't agree with them. Some folks

es

' it to you

Lunar Company will miss you," s

don't you? It's you that's le

a w

r g

. News to me," answ

' you the

nding his own business," observed the cowpuncher to th

with me. I'm liable to lam your head

eightin' with your outfit, Mr. Harrison. Kindly

issue again with him, but something in the contour of that close-gripped jaw, in the gleam of

he flat-leafed prickly pear and the occasional pudgy creosote were the chief forms of vegetable life. Now and again a swift might be seen basking on a rock or a Gil

urant which ostentatiously announced itself as the "New York Cafe." This side of the business street was in the territory of Uncle Sam, the other half floate

Texas. Here were miners and soldiers of fortune and plain tramps. More than one of the shining-eyed gamblers had a price upon his head. Several were outlaws. A score or more had taken part in the rap

cool, alert eyes. Nobody paid the least attention to him. He might be a horse-thief or an honest cowpuncher. It was a matter of supreme indifference to those p

tor leaned against it and talked to an

her holes in these here hills. Not much-say fifteen hundred, mebbe. I sure ain't got it now.

of chips. He was very red in the face from excitement and cocktails. The range-rider put a half-dollar on the red and won. He let it ride, won again, and shifted the chips to the black. Once more the goddess of luck favored him. He divided hi

's where I cash in," ann

the faro table. Yeager had come on business, not for pleasure. He int

ad his back to the observer, but the figure had a slender, boyish trimness that spoke of youth. The Mexican sitting to his right was a square-built fellow of forty with a scar on the cheek running from mouth to ear. There was on his face a c

nder, not much past thirty, but with the youth long since stamped out of his face. Sleek and black, a domina

minutes. He had cut his eye teeth at poker, and he saw at a glance that this was no game for a youngste

laying about even, contributed mostly to it. The bulky Mexican added his quota. The b

e or to fill a straight or a flush. Several hands were dealt without any stayer

s opened the pot. The

, I reckon I'll have to tilt it. Got to protect your hand f

moment's hesitation he measured a stack of blues by those the boy had put in the pot and added to it another

no business trailing along w

the boy. "My cards look go

carefully, met the raise

ne moment, se?or. Let us make it a good pot.

in the eyes of the boy. He counted the chips of the Mexican and then h

-three shy," he sai

he express purpose of cleaning out the boy. From the tenseness of the lithe body, which had

ened on the boy. He made his first mis

dred bucks. I've got fifty-three in t

big Mexican shrugged. "Too steep for Jesus

hilip laid his cards face dow

s eyes were fastened steadily on the

ra with an indolent

standing back and to one side of him, guessed the boy's dilemma. Should he stand pat on his straight or discard the heart and draw to his

them lying on the table wh

eelip. It's a show

ubs. He spread his hand with a

d three eights, then faced the two cards he had drawn. The

is teeth flashed in a friendly smile as

y strangely, unless-unless he had known that a fourth eight was waiting for him in th

the chips with his hands. "That play-it don't look g

his eyes were very watchful. "Me, I

et he did. Cold deck, kid. The other

light does from a blown candle. Snarling, he

he hissed, reac

er of Mendoza was

it against Culvera who reeled back against the wall and dropped his weapon. The sound of more shots, of men dodging their way to safety, of a sharp cry followed by groans, had t

his hand, while Mendoza, clutching at his

Beat it. Make your getaway through th

cowpuncher. Already scattered shots were being flung in his direction, but the dim light served hi

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