"Steve never oughter gambled none. He is a good cow-boy--splendid
round-up hand--an' can do his day's work with rope or iron in a
brandin' pen with anybody; but comin' right to cases, he don't know
no more about playin' poker than he does about preachin'. Actooally,
he'd back two pa'r like thar's no record of their bein' beat. This
yere, of course, leads to frequent poverty, but it don't confer no
wisdom on Steve.

"On this o'casion, when they ships Steve for the realms of light,
one of the boys gets a trey-full; Steve being possessed of a heart
flush, nine at the head. In two minutes he don't have even his
blankets left.

"After he's broke, Steve h'ists in a drink or two an' sours 'round a
whole lot; an' jest as the trey-full boy gets into his saddle, Steve
comes roamin' along up an' hails him.

"'Pard,' says Steve, a heap gloomy, 'I've been tryin' to school
myse'f to b'ar it, but it don't go. Tharfore, I'm yere to say you
steals that pa'r of kings as completed my rooin. Comin' to them
decisions, I'm goin' to call on you for that bric-a-brac I lose, an'
I looks to gain some fav'rable replies.'

"'Oh, you do, do you!' says the trey-full boy. 'Which you-all is a
heap too sanguine. Do you reckon I gives up the frootes of a trey-
full--as hard a hand to hold as that is? You can go ten to one I
won't: not this round-up! Sech requests is preepost'rous!'

"'Don't wax flippant about this yere robbery, says Steve. 'It's