He saw beyond the table Felix Craft with a gun in each hand. The gambler's face, despite the tears that overflowed his eyes and ran down his cheeks, was fairly murderous.
"Tip! Where are you? Don't you move, Bill," Craft was saying, the barrels of his two guns weaving to and fro uncertainly. "Get away from that door, Bill. Don't you try and get away. I can see you."
Billy leaned forward, picked up a fork from his set-out on the table and flung it across the room. It fell with a clatter. Craft fired at the sound. The next instant Billy kicked him under the chin and flattened him out.
"First time I ever saw a feller shoot by ear," observed Billy, calmly divesting Craft of his gun belt and exchanging Sam's six-shooter for his own gun with the brass-trigger guard. "He did pretty good, considering. Tip, don't you try to bluff me, like Crafty, that you can see. Hey! do you want to be the third senseless man in this room?"
Tip answered the question by halting his groping way toward the speaker. He stood still, his body swaying, his muscular fingers locked in the palms of his hands. Billy stooped over the senseless Craft and whipped off his neckerchief.
"Put your hands behind you, Tip," he directed.
"Damfi will!" Tip declared.
"I don't want to whang you over the head, Tip, but I'll have to if you won't be good. Stick 'em behind you."
Tip hesitated, then suddenly he thrust his hands behind him. Billy slipped around him, laid his six-shooter on a chair seat and drew the handkerchief beneath Tip's crossed wrists. The next instant Tip had whirled about, Tip's knees were between his legs and Tip's long arms were wrapped round him in an under-hold.
Tip was essaying the wrestling chip Cumberland men call the swinging hype. It is a crack chip and when well done is disastrous to an opponent. But it must be well done—the right arm under, hyping with the right leg and striking outside with the left. Fortunately for Bill, Tip, although his right arm was under in a strong hold, had made the mistake of sticking his left knee between Bill's legs. He struck outside with his right leg and missed. With the right arm under, he had not the leverage he should have had.