As the game progressed, Henry was interrupted by two men who would come in, wait for him in a corner, then whisper something to him and leave. It was as if he was receiving reports. Because there were so many men there, Norman was not obliged to enter into any conversation, not that he could have, and not that he would have. He did not understand the business talk and he had no reference for the upper social class talk. He just listened.
The game went well for Norman, but he was not winning every hand. Late into the evening most players were still in and most of the spectators still watching. Again the two men came in and spoke to Henry, but this time he gave each of them an envelope and shook their hands before they left. He came back to the table and before he sat down, he picked up his glass and toasted the air with the news that it appeared many of the men were waiting for. Rock Creek Church was now a pile of ashes and Reverend Horton would no longer be a problem. There would be no more pro-union sermons.
In what was later described to a newspaper as “like a panther,” Norman jumped up and in a single motion grabbed money from the center of the table with one hand a whisky bottle with the other, breaking it across the face and neck of Henry as he ran from the room. His motion was so rapid that the gush of blood from Henry never touch him. He was out the door and into the night before anyone realized what happened. Norman understood Henry’s announcement and the cheers from the room. He knew his father was dead, maybe his mother, and he was on the run.