on the table before the astonished
eyes of the half-breed.

"Here, Bat, you're a damn good Injun! You're plumb squanderous with your
money, but you're a good sport. Take that an' buy you a ticket to as far
North as it'll get you. Fifty bucks ort to buy a whole lot of car
ridin'. An' don't you stop to do no gamblin', neither---- Ain't I told
you it's onrespectable an' divertin' to morals? If you don't _sabe_ coon
can no better'n what you do poker, you stand about as much show amongst
these here Greasers as a rabbit in a coyote patch. It was a shame to
take your money this way, but bein' as you're half-white it was up to me
to save you the humiliatin' agony of losin' it to Greasers."

The half-breed pocketed the coins as the other buttoned his shirt and
took another long pull at the bottle.

"Wer' you goin' now?" he asked as the cowpuncher started for the door.
The man paused and regarded him critically. "First off, I'm goin' to get
my horse. An' then me an' you is goin' down to the depot an' you're
a-goin' to buy that there ticket. I'm a-goin' to see that you get it
ironclad an' onredeemable, I ain't got no confidence in no gambler an'
bein' as I've took a sort of likin' to you, I hate to think of you
a-walkin' clean to Montana in them high-heeled boots. After that I'm
a-goin' to start out an' examine this here town of Las Vegas lengthways,
crossways, down through the middle, an' both sides of the crick. An'
when that's off my mind, I'm a-goin' to begin on the rest of the world."
He moved his arm comprehensively and reached for the bottle.

"You wait right here till I get old Ace of Spades," he continued solemnly
when he had rasped the raw liquor from his throat. "If you ain't here
when I come back I'll swallow-fork your ears with this here gat just to
see if my shootin' eye is in practice. The last time I done any fancy
shootin' I was kind of wild--kep' a-hittin' a little to one side an' the
other--not much, only about an inch or so--but it wasn't right good
shootin'."

The half-breed grinned: "A'm stay here till you com' back. A'm fin' dat
you ma frien'. A'm lak' you, _bien_!"

When the Texan returned, fifteen minutes later, the man of many names was
gone. "It's just like I said, you can't trust no gambler," he muttered,
with a doleful nod of the head. "He's pulled out on me, but he better
not infest the usual marts of midnight. 'Cause I'm a-goin' to start out
an' take in everything that's open