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This one really is funny but you won't feel like laughing at it. I'll tell it so you won't." He told that story and saw it fall flat. "You see?" He flipped the cards, tossed them on the table with a whimsical gesture. "It isn't what you do in this world it's how you do it that counts. I'm sitting on your keno game, am I? All right, I'll get off."
"And, Keno, here's a poor little skeezucks that I found a-sittin' in the brush, 'way over to Coyote Valley. I fetched him home last night, and I was just about to take him down to camp and show him to the boys." "By jinks!" said Keno. "Alive!" "Alive and smart as mustard," said the suddenly proud possessor of a genuine surprise. "You bet he's smart!
"If it ain't so I want to know it early in the day!" "But what can I do?" still objected Keno. "Wouldn't you rather I'd stay home and git the breakfast?" "We don't want any breakfast if she 'ain't got the little boy. You come on!" Keno came; so did Tintoretto. The three went down the slope as the sun looked over the rim of the mountains.
"Softest little fingers I ever felt," said Webber. "I'd give twenty dollars if he'd laugh at me once." "Awful nice little shaver," said another. "I once had a mighty touchin' story happen to me, myself," said Keno, solemnly. "What was it?" inquired a sympathetic miner. "Couldn't bear to tell it not this mornin'," said Keno. "Too touchin'."
They were joking, laughing, wasting time. "Boys," cried Jim, as he hastened towards the group, "has any one seen little Skeezucks? Some one's played a trick and took him off! Somebody's been to the cabin and stole my little boy!" "Stole him?" said Field. "Why, where was you and Keno?" "Down to Doc's to get some milk. He wanted bread and milk," Jim explained, in evident anguish.
"More than nice-looking, to my mind, Sam," he replied. "What is the news to-day?" "Nothin' much. There's a sight of talk about the doin's of them faro an' keno sharps. The boys is gittin' kind o' riled, fur they allow the game ain't on the square wuth a cent. Some of 'em down to the tie-camp wuz a-talkin' about a vigilance committee, an' I wouldn't be surprised ef they meant business.
He was a noble-looking man of the Southern type, tall and slender, with flashing blue eyes; and the look that he gave him reminded Wiley of Virginia, only infinitely more kind and friendly. He had been, in his day, a prince of entertainers, of the rich and poor alike; and the kick of the whiskey had roused up those genial qualities which had made him the first citizen of Keno.
They were drawing a quilt, and as the numbers were drawn all were anxious to know who drew it. Finally, after several numbers were drawn it was announced by the deacon that number nineteen drew the quilt and the little sister turned to the traveling man and said, "My! that is my number. I have drawn it. What shall I do?" "Hold up your ticket and shout keno," said he.
"I'll tell you what," he slowly drawled, "in this little world there's about one chance in a million for a man to make a President of himself, and about nine hundred and ninety-nine chances in a thousand for him to make a fool of himself." "That's what I thought," said Keno. "All the same, if only I had the resolution I'd leave them boots there forever!" "What for?" said Keno.
"Seems to me the last time I saw old Doc his shirt needed stitchin' in the sleeve," he said. "How about that, Keno?" Keno was dumb as a clam. "You never seen nuthin' of the sort," corrected Miss Doc, with asperity, and, removing her bonnet, she sat down on a stool, Jim's overalls in hand and her bag in her lap.
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