“I would accept the whole amount in dispute; but under that, not a cent.”
Bagley looked at Turl long and hard; then said, quietly: “I tell you what I'll do with you. I'll toss up for that money,—the whole amount. If you win, keep it, and I'll shut up. But if I win, you turn it over and never let me hear another word about Davenport's right.”
“As I told you before, I'm not a gambling man. And I can't admit that Davenport's right is open to settlement.”
“Well, at least you'll admit that you and I don't agree about it. You can't deny there's a difference of opinion between us. If you want to settle that difference once and for ever, inside of a minute, here's your chance. It's just cases like this that the dice are good for. There's a saloon over on that corner. Will you come?”
“All right,” said Turl. And the three strode diagonally across Sixth Avenue.
“Gimme a box of dice,” said Bagley to the man behind the bar, when they had entered the brightly lighted place.
“They're usin' it in the back room,” was the reply.
“Got a pack o' cards?” then asked Bagley.
The barkeeper handed over a pack which had been reposing in a cigar-box.
“I'll make it as sudden as you like,” said Bagley to Turl. “One cut apiece, and highest wins. Or would you like something not so quick?”