“Just what do yuh mean, Angel?”
“Chuckwalla swiped the deck of cards,” said Angel slowly.
“I shore did!” snapped Chuckwalla. “And I found——”
“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Rance hoarsely. “This is for me to talk about, Chuckwalla. Now, what about the deck, Angel?”
“That’s what I want to know,” said Angel angrily. “Since that day I haven’t had two-bits worth of play in my place. I’ve had to cut down to one man, besides the bartender; and if this keeps up I’ll have to shut up the place. What I want to know is—what did you two say about me?”
Old Rance shook his head slowly.
“You’re wrong, Angel; we didn’t say a word to anybody. Was there somethin’ crooked about yore dealin’?”
“Didn’t say anythin’, eh?” Angel ignored the question.
“There was other men around the table,” reminded Chuckwalla. “They wasn’t blind, young feller.”
“You keep yore mouth out of this!” snapped Angel. “You took that deck over there on the sidewalk and—and——”