you an' show my friends, as I says, that you ain't got a thing, I'll
wager you two on the side, right now, that the pa'r of jacks I
breaks on, is bigger than the hand on which you comes in an' makes
that two-button tilt.' As he says this, Cherokee regyards the
avaricious gent like he's plumb disgusted.

"It turns out, when Cherokee makes this yere long an' fretful break,
the avaricious gent's holdin' a brace of kings. He's delighted with
Cherokee's uproar, an' thinks how soft, an' what a case of open-
work, he is.

"'You offers two bloos I can't beat a pa'r of jacks?' says the
avaricious gent. Which he's plumb wolf, an' out for every drop of
blood!

"'That's what I says,' replies Cherokee, some sullen.

"`I goes you,' says the avaricious gent, showin' a pa'r of kings.

"'Thar you be,' snarls Cherokee, with a howl like a sore-head dog,
a-chuckin' the avaricious gent a couple of chips; 'thar you go
ag'in! I can't beat nothin'; which I couldn't beat a drum! "The
avaricious gent c'llects them two azure bones; after which he
diskyards three, drawin' to his two kings, an' sets back to win the
main pot. He shore concloodes it's a red letter round-up for him.

"`I reckons now that I knows what you has,' says Cherokee,
displayin' a ace in a foolish way, 'I upholds this yere ace on the
side an' asks for two kyards.'