t. When
you buck the tiger, look out for his claws. But I reckoned he'd postpone
the turn till next time. He would have, if you fellers hadn't come down so
handsome with the dust. I stood pat, at that. So, you notice, did the
capper, your other friend."

"The capper? Which was he, sir?"

"Why, Lord bless you, son. You're the greenest thing this side of Omyha. A
capper touched him on the shoulder, a capper bent that there card, a
capper tolled you all on with a dollar or two, and another capper fed the
come-ons to his table. Aye, she's a purty piece. Where'd you meet up with
her?"

"With her?" I gasped.

"Yes, yes. The woman; the main steerer. That purty piece who damn nigh
lost you your life as well as losin' you your money."

"You mean the lady with the blue eyes, in black?"

"Yes, the golden hair. Lady! Oh, pshaw! Where'd she hook you? At the
door?"

"You shall not speak of her in that fashion, sir," I answered. "We were
together on the train from Omaha. She has been kindness itself. The only
part she has played to-night, as far as I can see, was to chaperon me here
in the Big Tent; and whatever small winnings I had made, for amusement,
was due to her and the skill of an acquaintance named Jim."

"Jim Daily, yep. O' course. And she befriended you. Why, d'you suppose?"

"Perhaps because I was of some assistance to her on the way out West. I
had a little setto with Mr. Daily, when he annoyed her while he was drunk.
But sobered up, he seemed to wish to make amends."

"Oh, Lord!" My friend's mouth gaped. "Amends? Yep. That's his nature.
Might call it mendin' his pocket and his lip. And you don't yet savvy that
your 'lady' 's Montoyo's wife--his woman, anyhow?"

"Montoyo? Who's Montoyo?"

"The monte thrower. That same spieler who trimmed us," he rapped
impatiently.

The light that broke upon me dazed. My heart pounded. I must have looked
what I felt: a fool.

"No," I stammered in my thin small voice of the hotel. "I imagined--I had
reason to suspect that she might be married. But I didn't know to whom."

"Married? Wall, mebbe. Anyhow, she's bound to Montoyo. He's a breed, some
Spanish, some white, like as not some Injun. A devil, and as slick as they
make 'em. She's a power too white for him, herself, but he uses her and
some day he'll kill her. You're not the fust gudgeon she's hooked, to feed
to him. Why, she's known all back down the line. They two have been
followin' end o' track from North Platte, a