A mere scratch of a pen and he would have money enough to move on to some other Dallas, and there gain the start he needed--enough, at least, so that he could tip his waiter and pay cash for his Coronas.

Business men are too gullible, any how; it would be a good lesson to Roswell and Haviland.

Why not--?
Calvin Gray started, he recoiled slightly, the abstracted stare was wiped from his face, for an officer in uniform had brushed past him and entered the bank.

That damned khaki again! Those service stripes! They were forever obtruding themselves, it seemed.

Was there no place where one could escape the hateful sight of them?
His chain of thought had been snapped, and he realized that there could be no short cut for him.
He had climbed through the ropes, taken his corner, and the gong had rung; it was now a fight to a finish, with no quarter given.