He turned and started toward the bar, when Pete tore away from Jimmy and started for Mallette.
“Give back that money!” demanded Pete. “You stole—”
Mallette whirled and met Pete, smashing him full in the face with a powerful right-hand swing. It knocked Pete flat on his back, almost under the feet of the men who come to see what it was all about. Mallette turned away and went out through the rear of the building.
Pete sat up, wiping the blood from his lips, looking around in a dazed way. English Ed shoved his way to Pete. He had heard what it was all about.
“Get up!” he exclaimed. “Pick up your hat and get out of here, you damned half-breed, and stay out! Don’t never come in here again.”
“Wait just a minute,” said Jimmy Moran.
He had secured Pete’s six-shooter and now he handed it to Pete.
“Wait for what?” asked English Ed.
“The trouble was caused by Mallette havin’ too many kings,” said Jimmy slowly. “I think I remember the king of hearts bein’ in my hand.”
“I see it,” nodded Pete. “When you lay hand down, I see it.”