As the men trooped heavily back into the front-room, the two little
windows presented views of a turmoiling sea of snow. The huge arms of
the wind were making attempts--mighty, circular, futile--to embrace
the flakes as they sped. A gate-post like a still man with a blanched
face stood aghast amid this profligate fury. In a hearty voice Scully
announced the presence of a blizzard. The guests of the blue hotel,
lighting their pipes, assented with grunts of lazy masculine
contentment. No island of the sea could be exempt in the degree of
this little room with its humming stove. Johnnie, son of Scully, in a
tone which defined his opinion of his ability as a card-player,
challenged the old farmer of both gray and sandy whiskers to a game of
High-Five. The farmer agreed with a contemptuous and bitter scoff.
They sat close to the stove, and squared their knees under a wide
board. The cowboy and the Easterner watched the game with interest.
The Swede remained near the window, aloof, but with a countenance that
showed signs of an inexplicable excitement.
The play of Johnnie and the gray-beard was suddenly ended by another
quarrel. The old man arose while casting a look of heated scorn at his
adversary. He slowly buttoned his coat, and then stalked with fabulous
dignity from the room. In the discreet silence of all other men the
Swede laughed. His laughter rang somehow childish. Men by this time
had begun to look at him askance, as if they wished to inquire what
ailed him.
A new game was formed jocosely. The cowboy volunteered to become the
partner of Johnnie, and they all then turned to ask the Swede to throw
in his lot with the little Easterner, He asked some questions about
the game, and, learning that it wore many names, and that he had
played it when it was under an alias, he accepted the invitation. He
strode towards the men nervously, as if he expected to be assaulted.
Finally, seated, he gazed from face to face and laughed shrilly. This
laugh was so strange that the Easterner looked up quickly, the cowboy
sat intent and with his mouth open, and Johnnie paused, holding the
cards with still fingers.
Afterwards there was a short silence. Then Johnnie said, "Well, let's
get at it. Come on now!" They pulled their chairs forward until their
knees were bunched under the board. They began to play, and their
interest in the game caused the others to forget the manner of the
Swede.
The cowboy was a board-whacker. Each time that he held superior cards
he whanged them, one by one, with exceeding force, down upon the
improvised table, and took the tricks with a glowing air of prowess
and pride that sent thrills of indignation into the hearts of his
opponents. A game with a board-whacker in it is sure to become
intense. The countenances of the Easterner and the Swede were
miserable whenever the cowboy thundered down his aces and kings, while
Johnnie, his eyes gleaming with joy, chuckled and chuckled.
Because of the absorbing play none considered the strange ways of the
Swede. They paid strict heed to the game. Finally, during a lull
caused by a new deal, the Swede suddenly addressed Johnnie: "I suppose
there have been a good many men killed in this room." The jaws of the
others dropped and they looked at him.
"What in hell are you talking about?" said Johnnie.
The Swede laughed again his blatant laugh, full of a kind of false
courage and defiance. "Oh, you know what I mean all right," he
answered.
"I'm a liar if I do!" Johnnie protested. The card was halted, and the
men stared at the Swede. Johnnie evidently felt that as the son of the
proprietor he should make a direct inquiry. "Now, what might you be
drivin' at, mister?" he asked. The Swede winked at him. It was a wink
full of cunning. His fingers shook on the edge of the board. "Oh,
maybe you think I have been to nowheres. Maybe you think I'm a
tenderfoot?"
"I don't know nothin' about you," answered Johnnie, "and I don't give
a damn where you've been. All I got to say is that I don't know what
you're driving at. There hain't never been nobody killed in this
room."
The cowboy, who had been steadily gazing at the Swede, then spoke:
"What's wrong with you, mister?"
Apparently it seemed to the Swede that he was formidably menaced. He
shivered and turned white near the corners of his mouth. He sent an
appealing glance in the direction of the little Easterner. During
these moments he did not forget to wear his air of advanced pot-valor.
"They say they don't know what I mean," he remarked mockingly to the
Easterner.
The latter answered after prolonged and cautious reflection. "I don't
understand you," he said, impassively.
The Swede made a movement then which announced that he thought he had
encountered treachery from the only quarter where he had expected
sympathy, if not help. "Oh, I see you are all against me. I see--"
The cowboy was in a state of deep stupefaction. "Say." he cried, as he
tumbled the deck violently down upon the board "--say, what are you
gittin' at, hey?"
The Swede sprang up with the celerity of a man escaping from a snake
on the floor. "I don't want to fight!" he shouted. "I don't want to
fight!"
The cowboy stretched his long legs indolently and deliberately. His
hands were in his pockets. He spat into the sawdust box. "Well, who
the hell thought you did?" he inquired.
The Swede backed rapidly towards a corner of the room. His hands were
out protectingly in front of his chest, but he was making an obvious
struggle to control his fright. "Gentlemen," he quavered, "I suppose I
am going to be killed before I can leave this house! I suppose I am
going to be killed before I can leave this house!" In his eyes was the
dying-swan look. Through the windows could be seen the snow turning
blue in the shadow of dusk. The wind tore at the house and some loose
thing beat regularly against the clap-boards like a spirit tapping.
A door opened, and Scully himself entered. He paused in surprise as he
noted the tragic attitude of the Swede. Then he said, "What's the
matter here?"
The Swede answered him swiftly and eagerly: "These men are going to
kill me."
"Kill you!" ejaculated Scully. "Kill you! What are you talkin'?"
The Swede made the gesture of a martyr.