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Updated: May 22, 2025
"I mean that you are playing poker with card-sharps, and they mean to rob you," answered Frank, plainly. "I I wonder how you er know so much," said the little man, with something like faint sarcasm, as Frank fancied. "It makes little difference how I know it, but I am telling you the truth. I am warning you for your good, sir." "Er ahem! Thank you very much." Mr. Slush walked away.
I don't know about all the adventures Blood River Jack mentioned, but I have heard of some of them, and I can add the story of the outwitting of a couple of card-sharps and a fight in the dark, in the cramped quarters of an overturned railway coach, in which he all but choked the life out of a human fiend who was robbing the dead and injured.
This was the night of golden harvest for the black-garbed, steel-nerved, cold-eyed card-sharps. They knew the brevity of time, and of hour, and of life. In the dancing-halls there was a maddening whirl, an immense and incredible hilarity, a wild fling of unleashed, burly men, an honest drunken spree.
"Oh, yes, you BET!" shrugged Newmark. "And that's where the card-sharps get you fellows every time. Well, pick it," said he, again deftly flipping the cards. Nolan, who had watched keenly, indicated one without hesitation. Again it proved to be the ten of spades. "Anybody else ambitious?" inquired Newmark.
Being a first-class amateur magician, his knowledge of card tricks had become of value to him in more than one instance. He felt that he would be able to hold his own against pretty clever card-sharps, but he did not care or propose to have any dealings with such men, unless forced to do so. The boys kept still for a while.
"My, what a hurricane of a man it is. I'm quite blown away. And you haven't explained a word to me." Daylight smiled responsively. "Look here, Dede, this is what card-sharps call a show-down. No more philandering and frills and long-distance sparring between you and me. We're just going to talk straight out in meeting the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
The Pan Handle of Texas, the old Chisholm Trail along which were driven the great cattle herds northward, Fort Dodge, where the cowboys conflicted with the card-sharps these hard places had left their marks on Carmichael. To come from Texas was to come from fighting stock. And a cowboy's life was strenuous, wild, violent, and generally brief.
"Reckon I'm elected to do all the work now," complained Wilson, "while you card-sharps cheat each other. Rustle the hosses an' water an' fire-wood. Cook an' wash. Hey?" "No one I ever seen can do them camp tricks any better 'n Jim Wilson," replied Anson.
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