Eugene Manlove Rhodes

“ Assured that Bennett was coming, he then walked on swiftly for two or three blocks. Where a long row of cottonwoods made dark the way, he waited in the shadows. He heard the slow steps of his approaching victim, noted their feebleness, and waited impatiently until Bennett passed his tree.
The gambler pounced on him; he crushed his puffy hand over Bennett's mouth.
"It's me, Beck! If you make a sound, damn you, I'll kill you! Feel that gun at the back of your neck?" He took his hand away. "What's the matter with you? You old fool, can't you stand up? I won't hurt you—unless you try to talk. ”

“ He snapped out the flashlight, stuck it in his pocket, and tiptoed to the front door, laughing softly.
Man is the slave of habit. Outside Beck turned to lock the door—a most illogical thing to do. He placed the bag between his feet, fumbled for the keyhole and inserted the key. Then he stiffened. He felt the cold muzzle of a gun against his temple, and a gentle voice said:
"Let me carry your bag."
Frozen with horror, the gambler felt a hand remove his own gun and the flashlight. ”

“ Bein' tied up is a lot better than being dead." A new thought struck him. "I've got it!" he cried triumphantly. "Quick as I get to Juarez I'll wire somebody to let you go. That won't be so bad. I won't waste a minute. Buck up! I'm gone now."
Once in the open Beck trod with a jubilant step. It was darker now and raining steadily; the smell of dawn was in the air; he quickened his pace. No sign of life was on the street.
The gambler came to his place of business, took out his key ring, and entered noiselessly. He worked swiftly. ”