It was now the Virginian's turn to bet, or leave the game, and he did not speak at once.
Therefore Trampus spoke. "Your bet, you son-of-a--."
The Virginian's pistol came out, and his hand lay on the table, holding it unaimed. And with a voice as gentle as ever, the voice that sounded almost like a caress, but drawling a little more than usual, so that there was almost a space between each word, he issued his orders to Trampas:--
"When you call me that, smile!" And he looked at Trampas across the table.
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