But some of the rest of us have different ideas as to how a
helpless enemy ought to be treated."
"You, Rafe Bodson!" snarled Duff, turning on the last speaker. "Are you
one of us? Do you belong to our side, or are you a spy for the other
crowd?"
"Got your gun with you, Duff?" inquired Bodson calmly.
"Yes," snapped the gambler.
"Get it out in your hand, then, before, you talk to me any more in that
fashion."
"He won't," mocked Tom. "He doesn't dare, Bodson. Your hands are not
tied."
"Cut it out, Rafe! Quit it!" ordered one of the other men in the crowd.
"We won't let this tenderfoot split our ranks. You're one of us, and
you'll stand by us."
"Not if there's going to be any more hitting of tied men," retorted
Bodson sulkily. "There's a limit to what a man can stand."
"Thank you, my friend," broke in Tom Reade mildly. "But don't go to any
trouble on our account. There are few if any others in this crowd who
can understand the meaning of fair play--the gambler least of all.
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