It’s then trouble begins to gather for the two rustlers. The one who deals the game that time is so overcome by Cold-sober’s absence, he peevishly puts it up that his pard gives Cold-sober warnin’ with the idee of later whackin’ up the roll with him by way of a reward for his virchoo. Nacherally no se’f-respectin’ miscreant will submit to sech impeachments, an’ the accoosed makes a heated retort, punctuatin’ his observations with his gun. Thar-upon the other proceeds to voice his feelin’s with his six-shooter; an’ the mootual remarks of these yere dispootants is so well aimed an’ ackerate that next evenin’ when Cold-sober an’ Peacock returns, they finds one dead an’ t’other dyin’ with even an’ exact jestice broodin’ over all. As Cold-sober an’ Peacock is settin’ by their fire that night, restin’ from their labors in plantin’ the two hold-ups, Cold-sober starts up sudden an’ says: “Yereafter I adopts a bob-cat for my coat-o’-arms. Also, I changes my mind about Howard, an’ to-morry I’ll go chargin’ into Tascosa an’ leave said ninety-five hundred in his iron box. Thar’s more ‘bad men’ at Fort Elliot than them two we plants, an’ mebby some more of ’em may come a-weavin’ up the Canadian with me an’ my wealth as their objective p’int.” Peacock endorses the notion enthoosiastic, an’ declar’s himse’f in on the play as a body-guard; for he sees in this yere second expedition a new o’casion for another drunk, an’ Peacock jest nacherally dotes on a debauch. ***** “And what did your Cold-sober Simms,” asked the Sour Gentleman, “finally do with his money? Did he go into the cattle business?” “Never buys a hoof,” returned the Old Cattleman. “No, indeed; he loses it ag’in monte in Kelly’s s’loon in Dodge. Charley Bassett who’s marshal at the time tries to git Cold-sober to pass up that monte game. But thar ain’t no headin’ him; he would buck it, an’ so the sharp who’s deal-in’, Butcher Knife Bill it is--turns in an’ knocks Cold-sober’s horns plumb off.” The sudden collapse of the volatile Cold-sober’s fortunes was quite a dampener to the Sour Gentleman; he evidently entertained a hope that the lucky cow-boy was fated to a rise in life. The news of his final losses had less effect on the Red Nosed Gentleman who, having witnessed no little gambling in his earlier years, seemed better prepared. In truth, a remark he let fall would show as much. “I was sure he would lose it,” said the Red Nosed Gentleman. “Men win money only to lose it to the first game they can find. However, to change the subject:” Here the Red Nosed Gentleman beamed upon the Jolly Doctor. “Sir, the hour is young. Can’t you aid us to finish the evening with another story?”