frivolous-minded, an' we'll have us a two-handed poker game which no
matter who wins we can't lose, like I was tellin' you, 'cause they can't
no outside parties horn in on the profits. But first-off we'll hunt up a
feed barn so Ace of Spades can load up on oats an' hay while we're havin'
our party."

An hour later the Texan deposited a quart bottle, a rack of chips, and a
deck of cards on a little deal table in the dingy back room of a saloon.

"I tell you, Pedro, they's a whole lot of fancy trimmin's this room ain't
got, but it's quiet an' peaceable an' it'll suit our purpose to a gnat's
hind leg." He dropped into a chair and reached for the rack of chips.

"It's a habit of mine to set facin' the door," he continued, as he
proceeded to remove the disks and arrange them into stacks. "So if you
got any choist just set down acrost the table there an' we'll start the
festivities. I'll bank the game an' we'll take out a fifty-dollar stack
an' play table stakes." He shoved three stacks of chips across the
table. "Just come acrost with fifty bucks so's we c'n keep the bank
straight an' go ahead an' deal. An' while you're a-doin' it, bein' as
you're a pretty good Greaser, I'll just take a drink to you----"

"Greasaire, _non_! Me, A'm hate de damn Greasaire!"

The cowpuncher paused with the bottle half way to his lips and
scrutinized the other: "I thought you was a little off colour an' talked
kind of funny. What be you?"

"Me, A'm Blood breed. Ma fader she French. Ma moder she Blood Injun.
A'm leeve een Montan' som'tam'--som'tam' een Canada. A'm no lak dees