between two
powerful wills. How long they would have remained with elbows
almost touching and looking into each other's eyes it is difficult
to determine; but an interruption came in the person of the
barkeeper, who darted in, calling: "One good cigar!"
Instantly the Girl reached behind her for the box containing the
choicest cigars, and handing one to Nick, she said:
"Here's your poison—three bits. Why look at 'em," she went on in
the next breath to Rance; "there's Handsome with two wives I know
of somewhere East. And—" She broke off short and ended with: "Nick,
who's that cigar for?"
"Tommy," he told her.
"Here, give that back!" she cried quickly putting out her hand
for it. "Tommy don't know a good cigar when he's smokin' it." And
so saying she put the choice cigar back in its place among its
fellows and handed him one from another box with the remark: "Same
price, Nick."
Nick chuckled and went out.
"An' look at Trin with a widow in Sacramento. An' you—" The Girl
broke off short and laughed in his face. "Oh, not one o' you
travellin' under your own name!"
"One whisky!" ordered Nick, coming into the room with a rush.
Without a word the Girl took down a bottle and poured it out for
him while he stood quietly looking on, grinning from ear to ear.
For Rance's weakness was known to him as it was to every other man
in Manzaneta County, and he believed that the Sheriff had taken
advantage of his absence to press his hopeless suit.
"Here you be!" sang out the Girl, and passed the glass over to
him.
"He wants it with water," returned Nick, with a snicker.
With a contemptuous gesture the Girl put the bottle back on the
shelf.
"No—no you don't; no fancy drinks here!" she objected.
"But he says he won't take it without water," protested Nick,
though there was a twinkle in his eye. "He's a fellow that's jest
rode in from The Crossin', so he says."
The Girl folded her arms and declared in a tone of finality:
"He'll take it straight or git."
"But he won't git," contended Nick chuckling. There was an
ominous silence. Such behaviour was without a parallel in the
annals of Cloudy. For much less than this, as the little barkeeper
very well knew, many a man had been disciplined by the Girl. So,
with his eyes fixed upon her face, he was already revelling in the
situation by way of anticipation, and rejoicing in the coming
requital for his own rebuff when the stranger had declined to leave
as ordered. It was merely a question of his waiting for the words
which would, as he put it, "take the fellow down a peg." They were
soon forthcoming.
"You jest send 'im to me," commanded the Girl. "I'll curl his
hair for him!"
Nick's face showed that the message was to his liking. It was
evident, also, that he meant to lose no time in delivering it. A
moment after he disappeared, Rance, who had been toying with a
twenty dollar gold piece which he took from his pocket, turned to
the Girl and said with great earnestness:
"Girl, I'll give you a thousand dollars on the spot for a kiss,"
which offer met with no response other than a nervous little laugh
and the words:
"Some men invite bein' played."
The gambler shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, what are men made for?" said he, flinging the gold piece
down on the bar in payment for the cigar.
"That's true," placidly commented the Girl, making the
change.
Rance tried another tack.
"You can't keep on running this place alone; it's getting too
big for you; too much money circulating through The Polka. You need
a man behind you." All this was said in short, jerky sentences;
moreover, when she placed his change in front of him he pushed it
back almost angrily.
"Come now, marry me," again he pleaded.
"Nope."
"My wife won't know it."
"Nope."
"Now, see here, there's just one—"
"Nope—take it straight, Jack, nope…" interrupted the Girl. She
had made up her mind that he had gone far enough; and firmly
grabbing his hand she slipped his change into it.
Without a word the Sheriff dropped
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