Each of these places ran a bar, and also
games of roulette, faro, craps, and stud poker. Even this early
in the morning every game was patronised.
The day was already hot with the dry, breathless, but
exhilarating, beat of the desert. A throng of men idling at the
edge of the sidewalks, jostling up and down their centre, or
eddying into the places of amusement, acknowledged the power of
summer by loosening their collars, carrying their coats on their
arms. They were as yet busily engaged in recognising
acquaintances. Later they would drink freely and gamble, and
perhaps fight. Toward all but those whom they recognised they
preserved an attitude of potential suspicion, for here were
gathered the "bad men" of the border countries. A certain
jealousy or touchy egotism lest the other man be considered
quicker on the trigger, bolder, more aggressive than himself,
kept each strung to tension. An occasional shot attracted little
notice. Men in the cow-countries shoot as casually as we strike
matches, and some subtle instinct told them that the reports were
harmless.
As the rider entered the one street, however, a more definite
cause of excitement drew the loose population toward the centre
of the road.
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