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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Who told you that his name was Poker Face?" Judith shot the question at him. Donley moved a scuffling foot back and forth, stirring uneasily. That he was lying, no one there doubted; that he was but a poor liar after all was equally evident. "You ain't got no call to keep me here," he said at last. "I ain't goin' to answer questions all day."
"Where did you get that white pigeon you turned loose this morning?" she asked crisply. "Caught it," was the quiet answer. "How?" "With my han's." "Why?" "Jus' for fun." "Did you know that pigeons could carry hog-cholera on their feet?" "No. But I wouldn't have been afraid, not bein' a hawg." Donley tittered. Poker Face looked unconcerned. "Take that man Donley into the hall," Judith said to Lee.
"Me?" demanded the man with an assumption of jauntiness. "I'm Donley, Dick Donley, that's who I am!" "When did you get here?" "'Bout an hour ago." "What did you come for?" "Lookin' for a job." "Did Carson say he hadn't anything for you?" "No, he didn't. You're askin' a lot of questions, if you want to know," he added with new surliness. "Then why are you going in such a hurry?
"You'll answer my questions if you don't want me to turn you over to Emmet Sawyer in Rocky Bend!" she told him coolly. "How did you know this man was called Poker Face? Did you know him before?" Donley's eyes went again, furtive and swift, to Poker Face. But so did all other eyes. Poker Face gave no sign. "Yes," answered Donley then, taking refuge at last upon the solid basis of truth.
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