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"Some of the men on the ranch do. I don't see any harm in a man's wearin' a ring. But I never have." "Well," said the lady, not yet suspecting that he was undertaking to circumvent her, "probably those men have sweethearts." "No, ma'am. Not sweethearts worth wearin' rings for in two cases, anyway. They won 'em at cyards. And they like to see 'em shine. I never saw a man wear a topaz." Mrs.
He forgot his customary caution in his surprise. "Well, you did just hit it, shore enough. I believe ye're half-gipsy instid o' half-Injun. Jus' like yer knowin' I stood pat on four uv a kind when you had aces full, and throwin' down yer cyards 'fore I c'u'd git even with yuh. How do yuh do it, Buck?" McKee gave a smile of cunning, inscrutable superiority. "Oh, it's jes' a power I has.
"And," said the Virginian, "if Essex's play got next her too near, I reckon she'd have stacked the cyards. Say, d' yu' remember Shakespeare's fat man?" "Falstaff? Oh, yes, indeed." "Ain't that grand? Why, he makes men talk the way they do in life. I reckon he couldn't get printed to-day. It's a right down shame Shakespeare couldn't know about poker.
So I had to give Trampas another explanation in the presence of folks lookin' on, and it was just like the cyards. No ideas occurred to him again. And down goes his opinion of me some more! "Well, I have not been able to raise it.
Molly could only sit giggling in this trap he had so ingeniously laid for her. "I'll tell you what," pursued the cow-puncher, with slow and growing intensity, "equality is a great big bluff. It's easy called." "I didn't mean " began Molly. "Wait, and let me say what I mean." He had made an imperious gesture with his hand. "I know a man that mostly wins at cyards. I know a man that mostly loses.
He looked around him for a chair; there was one near the table, and the Girl handed it to him. With one hand he swung it into place before the table, while with the other he jerked off the table-cover, and flung it across the room. Johnson neither moved nor groaned, as the edge slid from beneath his nerveless arms. "You and the cyards have got into my blood.
We cannot visualize the shambling but eager mountaineer with a sample of ore in his hand unless the writer reports him faithfully: "Wisht you'd 'zamine this rock fer me I heern tell you was one o' them 'sperts." Although the hillsmen save some breath in this way, they waste a good deal by inserting sounds where they do not belong. They are fond of grace syllables: "I gotta me a deck o' cyards."
For the others have always expressed themselves got shut of their poor opinion in the open air." "Yu' see, I had to explain myself to Trampas a right smart while ago, long before ever I laid my eyes on yu'. It was just nothing at all. A little matter of cyards in the days when I was apt to spend my money and my holidays pretty headlong. My gracious, what nonsensical times I have had!
But I was apt to win at cyards, 'specially poker. And Trampas, he met me one night, and I expect he must have thought I looked kind o' young. So he hated losin' his money to such a young-lookin' man, and he took his way of sayin' as much. I had to explain myself to him plainly, so that he learned right away my age had got its growth.
"You old son-of-a!" he cried affectionately. "Drinks are due now," said the Virginian. "My treat, Steve. But I reckon your suspense will have to linger a while yet." Thus they dropped into direct talk from that speech of the fourth dimension where they had been using me for their telephone. "Any cyards going to-night?" inquired the Virginian. "Stud and draw," Steve told him. "Strangers playing."
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