“This man is Cub McLean, the most notorious card-sharper, thief, and murderer in the west. He couldn’t play straight if he tried.”
McLean laughed. “Yes,” he said; “and if you want to see my trademark look at the side of Greggs’ face.”
Every man looked at Pony, learning for the first time that he had gone under a different name at some period of his life.
During the momentary distraction McLean swept the money off the table and put it in his pockets.
“Hold on,” cried Ragstock, seemingly not quite understanding the situation. “You haven’t won that yet.”
Again McLean laughed.
“It would have been the same in ten minutes.”
He jumped up, scattering the crowd behind him.
“Look to the doors,” cried Pony. “Don’t let this man out.”
McLean had his back to the wall. From under his coat he whipped two revolvers which he held out, one in each hand.