Dave complied, looking sharply for some other reason. The lamp on the wall divided its light fairly between them. Dave was satisfied. "Is it for love or money?" asked Tex. "Might as well make it interestin’," suggested Dave. Tex thought for a moment. "No," he dissented, "’Dog eat dog’ ain’t no good. But we ’ll keep count so you can see how bad you make out." It was no game. Tex won as he liked with the deck in his hand and his remarks on Dave’s dealing were neither complimentary nor soothing. "Duced bad form, as the Britisher would say," was his plaintive remonstrance at Dave’s first attempt; "you palms th’ pack like a professional." Sometime later, as he ran his finger nail questioningly along the edge of the cards, he shook his head in sorrow: "You shore thumbs ’em bold an’ plenteous, Dave," was his caustic comment. And then, querulously: "D—n it, Dave! don’t deal me seconds. Th’ top card is plenty good enough for me." It required very little of this to cross Dave’s none too easy temper. He pushed the cards away from him, pleased and annoyed at the same time. "You ’ll do," he declared, "if you can’t clean up Peters there ain’t a man in th’ country as can." A sudden suspicion struck him. Tex had reached out with his left hand to pick up the deck. "Where ’d you get that ring, Comin’? I never seen it afore." A swift movement of the fingers under the idly held pack and Tex extended his hand, palm up. The band of dark metal, almost unnoticeable on the brown hand, was as plain on the palm side as Dave had seen it to be on the back of the hand. "Belonged to my wife," said Tex, the cynical undertones in his voice bearing no expression in his face. "I wear it on our wedding anniversary." "Excuse _me_," was Dave’s hasty apology. He pushed back from the table. "Keep in trainin’, Comin’. I ’ll see Rose an’ start things rollin’. Jean will take you in as an old friend when we ’re ready. We must n’t be too thick; Peters might hear of it. Good-night. I ’m goin’ to roost." "Night, Dave." Tex sat fingering the cards with something very like wonder on his face. "What sort of a babe-in-arms is this for deviltry? He used to have better ideas. The cold weather up here must have congealed his brains. Break Buck Peters at stud! Maybe he plans to get us shooting. I ’ll bet a hat old Schatz never hatched that scheme." He took the cards over to Ike and strolled out, unseating Fanny with one sweep of his foot as he went. Fanny arose to his feet, looking for trouble. He was sober in his legs but his ideas crossed. No one being near him, he surveyed his backless, up-ended chair with blinking ferocity. "Cussed, buckin’ pinto! Think I can’t ride you, huh? Watcher bet?" He righted the chair and took a flying seat, all in one movement. "Huh! Ride anythin’ on four laigs," he boasted. Lulled by this confidence in his horsemanship, his head began to nod again, in sleep.