Rolt-Wheeler, Francis, 1876-1960 / 2008-09-17 00:00:00
"You surely answers that a heap sudden," he said. "An' I opine that's
some risky as a general play."
"Why?" asked the boy.
"Bein' too sure in three-card Monte has been a most disappointin'
experience to many a gent, an' has been most condoocive to transfers of
ready cash."
"But that's just guessing," said Wilbur. "I'm talking of what I know."
"Like enough you never heard about Quick-Finger Joe?" queried the
cowboy. "Over-confidence hastens his exit quite some."
"No," answered Wilbur quickly, scenting a story, "I never even heard of
him. Who was he?"
"This same Joe," began the range-rider, "is a tow-haired specimen whose
manly form decorates the streets of this here metropolis of Sumber that
you've been admirin'. He has the name of bein' the most agile
proposition on a trigger that ever shot the spots off a ten o' clubs. He
makes good his reputation a couple of times, and then gets severely left
alone. To him, one day, while he is standin' takin' a little
refreshment, comes up a peaceful and inoffensive-lookin' stranger, who
has drifted into town promiscuous-like in the course of the afternoon.
He addresses Joe some like this:
"'Which I hears with profound admiration that you're some frolicsome
and speedy on gun-play?'
"Joe, tryin' to hide his blushes, admits that his hand can amble for his
hip right smart. Whereupon the amiable-appearin' gent makes some sort of
comment, just what no one ever knew, but it seems tolerable superfluous
an' sarcastic, an' instantaneous there's two shots.
Read more
Parts:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13