“Non!  A’m ke’p dat four bit!  Dat lucky four bit.  A’m ponch hole in heem an’ car’ heem roun’ ma neck lak’ de medicine bag.  A’m gon’ back Nort’—­me!  A’m got no frien’s.  You de only friend A’m got.  You give me de las’ four bit.  You, give me de honch to play de t’irteen.  A’m git reech, an’ den you mak’ de bank, w’at you call, com’ ’crost.  Now A’m goin’ back to Montan’ an’ git me de job.  Wat de hell!”

“Where’s your outfit?” asked the Texan as he carefully stowed the money in his pockets.

“Ha!  Ma outfeet—­A’m sell dat outfeet to git de money to com’ back hom’.  A’m play wan leetle gam’ coon can an’ voila!  A’m got no money.  De damn Greasaire she ween dat money an’ A’m broke.  A’m com’ som’tam’ on de freight train—­som’tam’ walk, an’ A’m git dees far.  Tomor’ A’m git de freight train goin’ Nort’ an’ som’tam’ A’m git to Montan’.  Eet ees ver’ far, but mebbe-so A’m git dere for fall round-up.  An’ Ba Goss, A’m nevaire com’ sout’ no mor’.  Too mooch hot!  Too mooch no wataire!  Too mooch, w’at you call, de pizen boog—­mebbe-so in de bed—­in de pants—­in de boot—­you git bite an’ den you got to die!  Voila!  Wat de hell!”

The Texan laughed and reaching into his pocket drew out two twenty dollar gold pieces and a ten which thudded upon 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.