"'That's comfortin' to hear,' retorts this Holliday. 'The
chances,--what with splits an' what with the ten thousand you
oversizes me,--is nacherally with you; but I takes 'em. If I lose, I
goes back with a even thousand; if I win, you-all hits the trail with
a thousand, while I'm owner of your roll an' bank. Does that
onderstandin' go?'

"'It goes!' says Cherokee. Then he turns off for a brief powwow with
Faro Nell.

"'But thar's one thing you-all forgets, Cherokee,' says Nell. 'If he
breaks you, he's got to go on an' break me. I've a bundle of three
thousand; he's got to get it all before ever the play is closed.
Tell this yere Holliday party that.'

"Cherokee argues ag'in it; but Nell stamps 'round an' starts to weep
some, an' at that, like every other troo gent, he gives in abject.

"'Thar's a bet I overlooks,' observes Cherokee, when he resoomes his
talk with this Holliday; 'it's my partner. It's only a little matter
of three thousand, but the way the scheme frames itse'f up, after I'm
down an' out, you'll have to break my partner before Wolfville's all
your own.'

"'That's eminent satisfactory,' returns this Holliday. 'An' I freely
adds that your partner is a dead game sport to take so brief a
fortune an'--win all, lose all--go after more'n twenty times as much.
Your partner's a shore enough optimist that a-way.'

"Cherokee don't make no retort. This Holliday ain't posted none that