"Why not?"
"I wasn't going to do it, Rasco—I was only—only scaring you."
"Thet's a whopper—made outer the hull cloth, Stillwater. Yer war going ter shoot me—an' I'm a-goin' ter be jess as accommodatin'," and on the sly Rasco winked at Dick who was much relieved to think the boomer did not really intend to carry out his blood-thirsty design.
The face of Stillwater grew as white as a sheet and he trembled from head to foot.
"Don't! don't you do it! Let me off, and I'll give you all the money I have with me."
"It won't do, Stillwater."
"It's nearly a thousand dollars. Take every cent of it and let me go!"
The gambler fairly grovelled at Jack Rasco's feet. His horror of dying was something fearful to contemplate.
"I'll give yer one chance, Stillwater," said Rasco, in deep disgust, and at once the rascal's face took on a look of hope. "Yer ain't fit ter die, an' thet's why I say it. Promise ter let me an' my friends alone in the future."
"I promise."