“HE SEIZED THE MONEY AND THREW IT IN THE CHEVALIER’S FACE.”
The “Chevalier” fixed his handsome eyes on the boy. His face was pale but those burning eyes held the lad as under a spell. Then the man spoke, his words as cool as ice, his voice low but painfully distinct: “One might think, my boy, you had staked your character, your soul, and lost. That’s what the gambler does. I did not realize this till I had killed my best friend. You will understand my motives better when you learn more.”
He turned away. The boy looked after him, and shame quenched the fury in his heart.
CHAPTER XVII
SOMEWHAT OF A MYSTERY
A long, dusty road swept by the bleak wind of a November day. A boy, young man he seemed in his ragged frontier garb, trudged wearily on. The long rifle he carried had a fancifully carved stock, once the pride of a veteran Wyandotte chief.