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"Cash my chips," said Scotty. "I sat down here to play table stakes, and I didn't come to hear you fellows jaw, either." "You shut up!" said Dewing. "I'll cash your chips when I play out this hand not before. You're not in this." "Hell; you're both of you scared stiff!" scoffed Scotty. "Neither of you dast put up a cent." "Well, Johnson, how about it?" jeered Dewing.
Boland, you've got a gun. Watch the wall at my back. If you see a panel open, shoot! Hands on the table, lumbermen!" "Don't shoot! I'll come through," said Dewing, coolly enough, but earnestly. "I think you are the devil! Where did you get those cards?" "Call your man in from that panel. My back itches and so does my trigger finger." "What do you think I am a fool? Nobody's going to shoot you."
"You made no allowance for my loyalty and I made none for your scruples. As a result, Mr. Johnson has established a stalemate, held a parley, and bought off our warriors. They've been taken in on the copper find, on some small sharing, while we, in quite another sense of the word, are simply taken in. Such," observed Mr. Dewing philosophically, "is the result of inopportune virtues." "Bosh!
Pile 'em in the chair. Now, Mr. Dewing you were to give some testimony, I believe." "You'll get it. I robbed Wiley myself. But I'm damned if I tell you any more till you tell me where you got that hand. I'll swear those are the cards I dealt you. I never took my eyes off of you." "Your eyes are all right, son," said Johnson indulgently, "but you made your play too strong.
Then they pushed on, to waste no brief coolness of the morning hours. Pete kept word and spirit of his promise to Dewing; not until day was broad in the sky did he tell Stanley of Dewing's disclosure, tidings that displeased Stanley not at all. It was a gay party on that bright desert morning, though the way led through a dismal country of giant cactus, cholla and mesquite.
'Ah, dear, dear! sighed Fenellan; 'and out of good comes evil! as grandfather Deucalion exclaimed, when he gallantly handed up his dripping wife from the mud of the Deluge waters. Do you mean to be running and Dewing it on for ever, with only a nod for friends, Dart? 'Lord, Simmy, what a sound of home there is in your old nonsense! Dartrey said.
Unostentatiously, and at a safe distance, the three followed the cavalcade that set out from the Benavides house. Dewing posted his lumbermen in relays one near the entrance of Robles' Pass; one beyond the R E Ranch, which they circled to avoid; himself following the tracks of the four friends until he was assured, beyond doubt, that they shaped their course for the landmark of Baboquivari Peak.
"And when Dewing is ugly he is unbearable; absolutely the limit." "Isn't he?" agreed Eric in disgust. "Enough to make a man turn honest." Stanley Mitchell topped the last rise in Morning Gate Pass in the late afternoon. Cobre Basin spread deep and wide before him, ruddy in the low sun; Cobre town and mines, on his left, loomed dim and misshapen in the long dark shadows of the hills.
So doing, he noted that he held the kings of hearts, spades, and diamonds, with the queen and jack of diamonds. He slid queen and jack together. "Two aces to go with this hand would give me a heap of confidence," he thought. "I'm going to take a long chance." Boland passed; the first lumberman opened the pot; the second stayed; Dewing stayed; Pete stayed, and raised.
Mrs. Dewing declined re-election in 1905 and Mrs. Jeannette S. French was chosen president, serving two years. Events of the year were two lectures by Dr. Anna Howard Shaw, president of the National American Suffrage Association. In 1906 Mrs.
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