talisman, scrootinisin' it a heap clost. "Do you-all believe in the
bad luck of opals?" asks a pard who's with him. "This thing ain't no
opal," says the jeweller sharp, lookin' up; "it's glass."

"'An' so it is: that baleful gewgaw has been sailin' onder a alias; it
ain't no opal more'n a Colt's cartridge is a poker chip. An', of
course, it's plain the divers an' several disasters, from the loss of
that kyard gent's bank-roll down to the Mexican nuptials of the
ill-advised lady to whom I alloodes, can't be laid to its charge. The
whole racket shocks an' shakes me to that degree,' concloods Enright,
'that to-day I ain't got no settled views on opals', none whatever.'

"'Jest the same, I thinks it's opals that's the trouble with Dave,'
declar's Boggs, plenty stubborn an' while the rest of us don't yoonite
with him, we receives his view serious an' respectful so's not to jolt
Boggs's feelin's.

"Goin' back, however, to when Dave sets up the warble of 'Bye O baby!'
that a-way, we-all, followin' Enright's s'licitation for our thoughts,
abides a heap still an' makes no response. Enright asks ag'in: 'What
do you-all think?'

"At last Boggs, who as I sets forth frequent is a nervous gent, an' one
on whom silence soon begins to prey, ag'in speaks up. Bein' doubtful
an' mindful of Enright's argyment ag'in his opal bluff, however, Boggs
don't advance his concloosions this time at all emphatic. In a tone
like he's out ridin' for information himse'f, Boggs says:

"'Mebby, if it ain't opals, it's a case of straight loco.'