"One I minds spechul; he's no more'n a kid, his eye-teeth bein' hardly growed. It's San Antonio whar he butts in on the scenery, w'arin' dude clo'es an' lookin' that soft and innocent I'm mighty dubious 'bout his not meltin' into a cawpse 'less he pulls his freight for milder climes. But I notes a clean-strain look in his eye, kinder open an' free like'n eagle's, which same eye gives me a faint surmise as how he ain't so tender and lamblike as he appears. "I runs agin this here shorthorn first, a-takin' a pasear in his dude clo'es. Next I meets up with him over a faro game, an' I sees he has the fever on him shore 'nuff; his eyes is a-glitterin' an' his jaw clenched like he's desp'rate. He shore loses a heap, an' I notes his war-bags a-saggin' in and in, till presently they is plumb empty an' devoid of contents entire. Then he r'ars up on his hind-laigs, gives a laugh 'most like a wolf-howl, an' vamooses. "'Bout an hour later he swarms in on the scenery again, but he's a mighty dissolute lookin' hobo now. His dude clo'es is gone--I reckons he's done pawned 'em--an' he's a-caperin' 'round in a p'ar o' overalls, nought but squares o' variegated colours wi' patchin', an' a shirt which is 'most all ventilation. He's bar'-foot an' bar'-headed. "Wall, this here youthful scarecrow wanders kinder thoughtful up to the kyard-sharp who deals the faro game which roped in his dinero, an' slammin' down a twenty-dollar gold-touch, allows he'll cut kyards for it. "That 'ere kyard-sharp kinder smiles slow an' satisfied, like a wolf wi' a strayed calf or a b'ar wi' honey, an' then cold-decks him some careless an' easy. "But the boy cinches on to his play; his eyes sparkle, an' he cuts loose some loud an' fierce: "'You're a damned cheat!' "The faro-sharp ain't fretted none. He jest pulls his Colt an' p'ints it 'cross the layout, sayin' sorter glacial-like: "'Do you-alls savvy the meanin' o' that word. Mebbe bein' some recent an' ignorant o' manners, you don't.' He pauses an' takes a chew slow an' delib'rate, his gun still p'inting in a line wi' that British infant's breastbone; then he resoomes, frownin' f'rocious an' grittin' his teeth: 'Wall, I aims to larn you. Car'less words is the downfall o' many, an' has to be c'rrected, or are liable to breed trouble. That word you-alls uses means "Death" in Texas.' "But the boy, who I can see is some fretted an' impatient, breaks in here with his queer coyote laugh; then, flingin' himself forward over the layout, he rams his forehead plumb up agin the cold muzzle o' that Colt, and warbles out soft an' sweet like he's some pleased wi' himself: "'I say you're a d----d cheat!' "Great snakes an' creepin' reptiles! But it were a nervy play to make!