The Spanish Fork press. [volume] (Spanish Fork, Utah) 1902-current, 1909-09-16

heuntuy ulTtClly n
moment later Whispering Smith put
his head inside the door of the joint |
Du Sang had entered, withdrew 1t,
and, rejoining his companions, spoke |
in an undertone: "a negro dive; he's |
lying low. Now we will keep our reg |
ular order. It's halfbasement, with |
a bar on the left crap games at the
table behind the screen on the right.
Kennedy, will you take the rear end of
the bar? 1t covers the whole room
and the back door. George pass in
ahead of me and step just to the left
of the slot machine; you've got the
front door there and everything be-
hind the screen, and | can get close to
Du Sang. Look for thinnish, yellow
faced man with a brown hat and
brown shirt-and pink eyes-shoot-
ing craps under this window I'll shoot
craps with him. Is your heart pump
ing, George? Never mind. this is
easy! Farrell, you're first!"
The dive, badly lighted and venti-
lated, was counted tough among tough
places. White men and colored mixed
before the bar and about the tables.
When Smith stepped around the
screen and into the flare of the hang
ing lamps, Du Sang stood in the small
corner below the screened street win
dow. McCloud, though vitally inter.
ested in looking at the man that had
come to town to kill him, felt his at
tention continually wandering back
to Whispering Smith. The clatter of
the rolling dice, the cultural jargon
of the negro gamblers, the drift of
men to and from the bar. and the
clouds of tobacco smoke made a haZy
background for the stoop-shouldered
man with his gray hat and shabby
coat, dust-covered and travelstained.
Industriously licking the broken wrap
per of a cheap cigar and rolling it
fondly under his forefinger, he was
making his way unostentatiously to-
ward Du Sang. Thirty-odd men were
in the saloon, but only two knew what
the storm center moving slowly
across the room might develop. Ken
nedy, seeing everything and talking
pleasantly with one of the barkeepers,
his close-set teeth cleaning 20 feet
away, stood at the end of the bar slid
ing an empty glass between his hands.
Whispering Smith pushed past the on
lockers to get to the end of the table
where Du Sang was shooting. He
made no effort to attract Du Sang's
attention, and when the latter looked
up he could have pulled the gray hat
from the head of the man whose
brown eyes were mildly fixed on Du
Sang's dice; they were lying just in
front of Smith. Looking indifferently
at the intruder, Du Sang reached for
the dice just ahead of his right hand
Whispering Smiths right hand, the
| finger-tips extended on the table,
rested in front of them; 1t might have
; been through accident or it might
, have been through design. In his left
, hand Smith held the broken cigar, and
, without looking at Du Sang he passed
! the wrapper again over the tip of his
tongue and slowly across his lips.
Du Sang now looked sharply at him
t and Smith looked at his cigar Others
were playing around the semi.circulal
3 table-it might mean nothing. d.
:. Sang waited Smith lifted his righ
: hand from the table and felt in hi!
4 waistcoat for a match. Du Sang, how
ever, made no effort to take up tn,
dice. He watched Whispering Smitl
/. scratch match on the table, and
I either because it failed to light o
/: through design, it was scratched th
o second time on the table, marking
O cross between the two dice
n The meanest negro in the join
IL would not have stood that, yet D.
Sang hesitated. Whispering Smith
G mildly surprised, looked up. Hello
" Pearline! You shooting here?' II
II pushed the dice back toward the ou
y law. Shoot again!"
k Du Sang, scowling, snapped tn
h dice and threw badly.
d up jump the devil, is 1t? Shoe
d again!" And, pushing back the dic'
d Smith moved closer to Du Sang. Th
t. two men touched arms. Du SAM
n threatened in a way wholly new
n. him, waited like snake braved by
ID mysterious enemy. His eyes blinke
lie like a badgers. He caught up th
c. dice and threw. rs that the best yo
n, can do?" asked Smith. See here!
d, He took up the dice. Shoot with me!
n Smith threw the dice up the table t
e. ward Du Sang. Once he threw crap
but, reaching directly in front of L
I'd Sang, he picked the dice up and thre
e. eleven. Shoot with me. Du Sang"
lie What's your game?" snapped I
Sang. with an oath.
as What do you care, if I've got Il
he coin? I'll throw you for $40 go
lie pieces"
?" Du Sangs eyes glittered. Unable
a understand the reason for the affror
et he stood like a cat waiting to sprin
This is my game!" he snarled.
ed Then play it,"
ey Look here, what do you want?"
is demanded, angrily
lis Smith stepped closer. "Any gar
you've got I'll throw you left-hande