"
"She will not," smiled Wilbur, and covered the coin. "Will you take
odds?"
"No charity. Who else will bet?"
"I," said Jim Boone instantly. "You figure her for an ordinary sulky
kid."
Pierre smiled upon him.
"There's a cut in my shirt where her knife passed through; and that's
the reason that I'll bet on her now." The whole table covered his
coin, with laughter.
"We've kept one part of your bargain, Pierre. We've seen your father
buried in the corner plot. Now, what's the second part?"
"I don't know you well enough to ask you that," said Pierre.
They plied him with suggestions.
"To rob the Berwin Bank?"
"Stick up a train?"
"No. That's nothing."
"Round up the sheriffs from here to the end of the mountains?"
"Too easy."
"Roll all those together," said Pierre, "and you'll begin to get an
idea of what I'll ask."
Then a low voice called from the black throat of the hall: "Pierre!"
The others were silent, but Pierre winked at them, and made great
flourish with knife and fork against his plate as if to cover the
sound of Jacqueline's voice.
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