Frenchy picked up the four deuces and held them tremblingly before the staring crowd.
“Look at ’em! Let ’em burn through your hides into your souls! There’s the blood of the Kid on ’em. The damned dirty deuces! They’ve got me in the last ditch! I’m done!”
Frenchy crushed the cards and dashed them to the floor. He arose unsteadily to his feet, took his guns and staggered out of the barroom of the “Big 6.”
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:
—Obvious errors were corrected.