“Best two out of three.” Swift, staccato sentences, like the rapid crossing of swords, the first preliminary interchange of strokes before the true duel begins.
Rance dealt the cards. Before either looked at them, he glanced across at the Girl and asked scornfully, perhaps enviously:
“What do you see in him?”
“What do you see in me?” she flashed back instantly, as she picked up her cards; and then: “What have you got?”
“King high,” declared the gambler.
“King high here,” echoed the Girl.
“Jack next,” and he showed his hand.
“Queen next,” and the Girl showed hers.
“You’ve got it,” conceded the gambler, easily. Then, in another tone, “but you’re making a mistake—”
“If I am, it’s my mistake! Cut!”