"Or expect to have any?" interjected Meldrum, insolence in his shifty
pig eyes.

"No, not looking for any," answered Dingwell amiably. "Fact is, I was
prospecting around Lonesome Park and found a gold mine. Looks good, so
I thought I'd tell Sweeney about it. . . . Up to me? I've got
openers." He pushed chips to the center of the table.

Rutherford also pushed chips forward. "I'll trail along. . . . You
got an idea of taking in Sweeney as a partner? I'm looking for a good
investment. _It would pay you to take me in rather than Sweeney_."

Three of those at the table accepted this talk at its face value. They
did not sense the tension underneath the apparently casual
give-and-take. Two of them stayed and called for cards. But Dave
understood that he had been offered a compromise. Rutherford had
proposed to divide the gold stolen from the express car, and the
proffer carried with it a threat in case of refusal.

"Two when you get to me. . . . No, I reckon I'll stick to the sheriff.
I've kinda arranged the deal."

As Rutherford slid two cards across to him the eyes of the men met.
"Call it off. Sweeney is not the kind of a partner to stay with you to
the finish if your luck turns bad. When I give my word I go through."

Dingwell looked at his cards. "Check to the pat hand. . . . Point is,
Hal, that I don't expect my luck to turn bad."