“An' if I don't?” demanded O'Rourke.
“If you don't,” repeated Mr. Hennage calmly, “I shall cancel the entry at one minute after four o'clock.”
“You can't bluff me.”
“I'm not bluffin' this time, you dog. Do I get that assignment of entry?”
Borax O'Rourke knew that his life might be the price of a refusal, but in the presence of that crowd where men were measured by their courage the remnants of his manhood forbade him to answer “yes.” He was not a coward.
“I'll be in the middle o' the street at four o'clock” he answered.
“Got a gun?”
“No.”
The gambler threw him over a twenty-dollar piece.
“Go get one.”