"You got enough, all right," Em agreed. "Now,
how'd you like to have a real good time?" She disposed
herself upon her elbow, so that the sagging
bulk of her body was emphasized through its straining
apparel; one leg, incredible, leviathan, was
largely visible.

"I've had enough," Gordon repeated; "I'll be
moving."

Em rose quickly, losing her air of coquetry.
Gordon was facing the men, and was unprepared for
the heavy blow she dealt upon the back of his neck.
"Hang it on him, Otty!" she cried excitedly.

Mr. Ottinger shoved the card table from his path.
It was now evident that it was, precisely, to "hang
it on" whoever might be elected for that delicate
attention which formed Otty's purpose, profession,
preoccupation, in life. He was, for a heavy man,
active; and, before Gordon Makimmon could put
out a protective arm, he returned the latter to the
perpendicular with a jarring blow on the chin.
Jake whipped out from a place of concealment on
his person a plaited leather weapon with a globular
end.

It was Jake, Gordon instinctively knew, who
threatened him most; he could easily stop the hulking
shape before him. He regained his poise, and
returned blow for blow with Mr. Ottinger; neither
man guarded, both were solely intent upon marking,

[[64]]

p063 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p064w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p065

v?