If this young woman is
embarrassed up at Tete Jaune you're going to settle with me."
Aldous had spoken without a tremor of excitement in his voice. Not one of
the men noticed his speaking lips, his slim hands, or his careless posture
as he leaned in the door. They were looking straight into his eyes,
strangely scintillating and deadly earnest. In such a man mere bulk did not
count.
"That much--for words," he went on. "Now I'm going to give you the visual
demonstration. I know your game, Bill. You're already planning what you're
going to do. You won't fight fair--because you never have. You've already
decided that some morning I'll turn up missing, or be dug out from under a
fall of rock, or go peacefully floating down the Athabasca. See! There's
nothing in that hand, is there?"
He stretched out an empty hand toward them, palm up.
"And now!"
A twist of the wrist so swift their eyes could not follow, a metallic
click, and the startled group were staring into the black muzzle of a
menacing little automatic.
"That's known as the sleeve trick, boys," explained Aldous with his
imperturbable smile. "It's a relic of the old gun-fighting days when the
best man was quickest.
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