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  • The sheriff had dropped both his big hands to the butts of his guns as he spoke and wheeling he faced the mob but there was no movement hostile to him only a sort of shiver of pentup excitement. Pro fessional gamblers were not in the main over popular in Pine ge ; they had a habit year in and year out of skinning the cowmen and prospectors of their little hoards and many of them were not too particular concerning the way they helped the Goddess of Luck by marking cards and loading dice. And anyway the Pine ge crowd were all at a loose end they had no leader and a mob without a leader is a wolf without fangs : its the leader that counts every time.
  • Six or seven more of the sheriffs heelers had emerged from the saloon and in their midst moved another bound man a thin wiry person light of frame who walked with rather stooping shoulders. Somehow he gave the impression of having been so systematically starved in his hood that no amount of feeding in the after years would permit him to make up for the hardships of the past. Fierce as the border suns were and biting as the ter ds could be in the silver sage country neither sun nor d had managed to take the bleached look from his face. His shoulders sloped at such an acute angle that his narrow head appeared almost to be perched
  • on a thin sinewy neck that shot up out of nowhere in particular his chest was flat but at the back of him there was a sort of rounded bulge which if it had been a little more acute might have been called a hump. Men who had not studied athletics and who saved their admiration for deepchested square shouldered specimens of humanity might have given this prisoner a passing glance and passed him over as a useless misfit in the scale of things but to a real connoisseur in matters of speed of movement in the human form and unsuspected strength to back the speed those strangely sloping shoulders and that half hump at the back of The Whippets makeup would have told much. In the matter of his dress The Whippet was very little different from the majority of the cowmen in the crowd : perched far back on his head was a wide sombrero so far back indeed that the rather thin and poorly nourished hair of the man was revealed above forehead and temples.
  • The speaker spoke in a voice full of a kind of sad ness and without any intention of being humorous but the crowd who were familiar with The Whippet in his professional capacity burst into a roar of laughter for The Whippet was a lightweight boxer who had drifted over to America from London in search of s and adventure. The former had not come to him in any conspicuous quantity but he had sampled adventure in a manner that would have satisfied any ordinary citizen and this his latest instalment seemed likely to be his last. He had tried his hand at many things in the land of his adoption and had been cook for cowboys prospector and lum berman each in turn ; but every now and again the lure of his original calling or profession had seized him and he had gone back to the boxing game at which he was something of a demon. But no matter how many victories he scored and his record was a great one he never seemed to get hold of the big money ; in fact as he often remarked in his plaintive fashion he was lucky to get any money at all. He was a topnotch fighter but a babe in the woods in a business sense : cunning American managers and promoters made fortunes out of him but he himself was always in cold storage when it came to collecting the fruits of his skill and courage. He had run into San Jos6 the gambler at a period when as he expressed it in his own inimitable way he was disputing with the dogs







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