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A smoking gun lay near his twitching hand. That pallid face belonged to Dayss. Larry King staggered out into an empty street, looking up and down. "Wal, I reckon thet's aboot all!" he drawled, with low, strangled utterance. Then swaying from side to side he strode swiftly, almost falling forward, holding tight to Allie. They drew away from the brighter lights.
He loved my mother. He does not believe she is dead. He lives only to be revenged upon her ... He has a desperate gang here. Fresno, Mull, Stitt, Black, Grist, Dayss, a greaser called Mex, and others all the worst of bad men. You cannot get me out of here alive except by some trick." "How about bringing the troops?" "Durade would kill me the first thing." "Could we steal you out at night?"
At the corner, where the halls met, he halted to listen. Only the low hum of voices came up. "Larry, I must tell you," whispered Allie. "Durade and his gang are after me. Fresno Mull Black Dayss you know them?" "I reckon," he replied, swallowing hard. "My Gawd! you poor little girl! With that gang after you! An' Stanton!
O, sare shall neveh a veed be in sat karten two dayss oldt! An' sose roses sey shall be pairfect ever' vun!" As perfect as roses every one were her words kept. And Fontenette got his new business but could not come back that year, nor the second, nor the third.
There were also Durade's other helpers Black, his swarthy doorkeeper, a pallid fellow called Dayss, who always glanced behind him, and Grist, a short, lame, bullet-headed, silent man all of them under the spell of the green cloth. With Durade's success had come the craze for bigger stakes, and these could only be played for with other gamblers.
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