Flint (1960) Read Free

financier.
    The gambler received his first hint that all was not as he had expected during the early part of the game. Kettleman played shrewdly and with icy control, and the gambler quickly grasped that he himself was being studied with cool, calculated interest As part of his scheme, the gambler deliberately invited an accusation of cheating whenever a showdown developed between Kettleman and himself, but Kettleman ignored the opportunity, and the gambler grew worried.
    Nothing was going as planned, and he began to realize that his opponent knew what he was trying to do, and was deliberately avoiding it. So anxious was he to lead Kettleman into an argument that his mind was not on the game, and suddenly he lost a large pot.
    Startled, he looked at the table and realized that he himself had been cheated, with coolness and effrontery. He had been stripped of more than six thousand dollars with the skill of a professional. His eyes lifted to Kettleman's.
    "You have been looking for trouble," Kettleman said quietly. "I am offering it to you."
    The gambler was nervous. He touched his tongue to his lips and felt the sweat beading his forehead.
    "You are looking for trouble," Kettleman said. "Why?"
    There was no one close by. "I am going to kill you," the gambler said.
    "If you wish to leave the game, we can divide the pot, and I will forget what you have said."
    It was there then -- a way out. As a gambler he knew he should take it, but gambling was only a part of his business and he had his pride.
    "I cannot. I have been paid."
    "There are other ways to make a living and you have chosen the wrong one. I am offering you your last chance. Get out."
    "I gave my word. I took their money."
    Kettleman had seemed almost negligent. "When you are ready, then."
    The gambler stepped back quickly, overturning bis chair. "If you say I cheat," he said loudly, "you are a liar!" And he grasped his gun.
    Everybody saw him grasp the gun, everybody saw him start to draw it, and then he started coughing and there was blood on his shirt, blood dribbling down his chin, and on his face the realization of death.
    Kettleman leaned over him. He looked down at the gambler and knew this man was only a step away from the man he was himself. "I didn't want to kill you," he said. "Who hired you?"
    "Your wife," the gambler said. "And her father."
    Kettleman realized then that he had known something like this would happen. He started to rise but the gambler caught his wrist. "I must know. Who are you?"
    Kettleman hesitated. For the first time since that night he spoke of it. "I was the kid at The Crossing."
    "God!" The gambler was excited. He started to rise, began to speak, and then he died.
    Kettleman turned away. "I saw it, sir." The speaker was a man powerful in the state government. "You had to do it."
    Seeing an acquaintance, Kettleman said, "I am sorry for this. Will you see that he is buried well? I will pay."
    At the estate in Virginia he wasted no time. He changed clothes, repacked his bags, and caught the ride with the peddler he knew would be coming through. He also knew it would be months before the peddler came that way again.
    From a distant town he took a stage, and then a train.
    By the time they discovered his absence, he would be safely in the hideout in New Mexico.
    It was very cold. He sat up in his blankets and put fuel on the fire.
    His thoughts returned to the girl on the train. She had been singularly self-possessed, with a quiet beauty not easily forgotten.
    Thinking of her made him remember his own wife, and he was amazed at how gullible he had been. His life had not fitted him for living with people. As a predatory creature he had been successful, as a human being he was a failure. He had invited no friendships and offered none.
    He had entered business as he had life, to fight with fang and claw. Cool, ruthless, intelligent, he subordinated everything to success, and confided in no one, prepared to protect himself at all times, and