Johnny laughed again.

“I bate.” A Swede standing near Johnny thrust out a five dollar bill.

He won.

“See?” jeered the conman. “You’re no sport. You’re a coward.” He leered at Johnny.

Johnny’s cheek turned a shade redder, but he only smiled.

Again the Swede bet and won.

Again the conman had the word “coward” on his lips. He did not say it.

Johnny was speaking. There was a cold smile on his lips.

“I can tell you one thing, stranger,” Johnny squared his shoulders, “I’m not in the habit of allowing men to call me a coward. I’ll tell you why I don’t play your rotten game, then I’ll tell you something else. That man, and that one, and that one and this Swede are your cappers. You had twenty-five dollars between you when I came. You got five from that stranger who left. When one of you. . . Read More