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Updated: June 22, 2025
Tinhorn Mountain! Dear, oh, dear!" He came back a little later in a less mirthful mood. Had not the crestfallen Mitchell been thoroughly engrossed with his own hurts, he might have perceived that Zurich himself was considerably subdued. "It is about time for you to take steps again," said Zurich. "Glance over this letter. It came on the stage just now. Dated at Tucson last night."
Johnny Behind the Deuce was an undersized, scrawny specimen of the genus which is popularly known as "tinhorn," a sort of free-lance gambler, usually to be found sitting in at a poker-game. The engineer was a big man and abusive.
"There doesn't seem to be much trouble just now," remarked Cameron. "Trouble? There may be the biggest kind of trouble any day. Some of these contractors are slow in their pay. They expect men to wait a month or two. That makes them mad and the tinhorn bunch keep stirring up trouble. Might be a strike any time, and then look out. But our Chief will be ready for them.
His hands rested on the table as an assurance that he did not mean to back up his charge with a gunplay unless it became necessary. The man who called himself Blair wasted no words in denial. His right hand slid toward his hip pocket. Simultaneously the fingers of Dave's left hand knotted to a fist, his arm jolted forward, and the bony knuckles collided with the jaw of the tinhorn.
"You're a traitor, and we'd like nothing better than seeing your guts spilled," the Security man had told him. "That paper you swiped was marked top secret. But we don't get many men with your background cop, tinhorn, fighter who have brains enough for our work. So you're bound for Mars, rather than the Mercury mines. If..." It was a big if, and a vague one.
Here we are with twenty-five men from Laggan to Beaver keeping order among twenty-five hundred railroad navvies, not a bad lot, and twenty-five hundred others, the scum, the very devil's scum from across the line, and not a murder all these months. Whiskey, of course, but all under cover. I tell you, he's put the fear of death on all that tinhorn bunch that hang around these camps."
After disarming their captive and tying his hands at his back they jerked him to his feet and examined him. "Who are you?" asked Grayson. "What you doin' sneakin' 'round spyin' on me, eh?" "If you wanna know who I am, bo," replied Billy, "go ask de Harlem Hurricane, an' as fer spyin' on youse, I wasn't; but from de looks I guess youse need spyin, yuh tinhorn."
That tinhorn who claimed he was from Cheyenne ce'tainly had a mighty funny run o' luck. D' you notice how his hands jes' topped ours? Kinda queer, I got to thinkin'. He didn't hold any more'n he had to for to rake the chips in. I'd sorta like a look-see at the deck we was playin' with." Blister laughed wheezily. "You w-won't get it.
Tinhorn Frank guffawed; a few of his ilk did likewise, but the laughter died upon their lips at the blazing glance Van Lennop flashed them. "Essie, you are hurt! Your hand is bleeding!" Dr. Harpe shut her teeth hard at the concern in Van Lennop's voice as he helped the girl to her feet, but there was solicitude in her tone when she said: "Let me see if there's glass in it, Essie."
"Stopped!" fiercely. "I've been blocked at every turn by the authorities and others, and now it's come straight from 'Tinhorn' himself the mayor." Speechless, Kate's trembling hand sought the saddle horn and gripped it. "But why?" finally.
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