struck a
menagerie and the boys was beasts in cages--all hands was set spiteful
to him right off.

Things was running about as usual at the Queen: most of the boys
setting around the table and Santa Fe dealing; a few of 'em standing
back of the others looking on; two or three getting drinks at the bar
and talking to Blister; and the girls kicking their heels on the
benches, waiting till it come time to start up dancing in the other
room. The only touch out of the common was the way the Sage-Brush Hen
had fixed herself--she being rigged up in the same white duds she'd
wore when Hart's aunt come to town, and looking so real cute and
pretty in 'em, and acting demure to suit, nobody'd ever a-sized her
for the gay old licketty-split Hen she was.

[Illustration: "STARING 'ROUND THE PLACE SAME AS IF HE'D STRUCK A
MENAGERIE"]

It was between deals when Wood and Boston come in, and Santa Fe got up
from the table and crossed over to 'em--Charley always was that polite
you'd a-thought he was a fish-hook with pants on--and told Boston he
hoped he seen him well, and was glad he'd come along. Then Wood told
how he was after mountain-lions, and wasn't likely to get none; and
Charley owned up they was few, and what there was of 'em was so sort
of scattered the chances for finding 'em was poor.

Boston didn't say much of nothing at first, seeming to be took up with
trying to make out where Santa Fe belonged to--hitching on his
eye-glasses and looking him over careful, but only getting puzzleder
the more he stared. You see, Charley--in them black clothes and a
white tie on--looked for certain sure like he was a minister; and
there he was getting up red-hot from dealing faro, and having on each
side of where he set at the table a forty-five gun. It was more of a
mix-up than Boston could manage, and you could see he didn't know
where he was at. Howsomedever, Wood had told him he'd better make out
to be friendly, and take just what happened to come along without
asking no questions; and I reckon the shoat really meant, as well as
he knowed how to, to do what he was told. So he give up trying to size
Santa Fe, and said back to him he was obliged and was feeling hearty;
and then he took to grinning, like as if he wanted to make things
pleasant, and says: "Really, I am very much interested in my
surroundings. This place has quite the air of being a barbarian Monte
Carlo. It really has, you know."

That was a non-plusser for Charley--an