The Belding banner-news. (Belding, Mich.) 1918-1973, 1919-12-10
"a SO rs.
Am COW PUNCHER
E<&fSs.&iSEc&sn By Robert &c Stead
~ X /SNX&#%& Kitchener. and other poems
III N.N Ihrhulu siykd nliyss 1870

'That don't CO." said Dave very
quietly. you're playin public game
here. an chose to play with you this
once. Sixty dollars on this card" He
was fumbling his money on the table.
"You amt playin'.' repeated the
dealer. you're a butt-in. You amt
in this game at ALL"
"Sure he's in" said the crowd.
"That amt right" whined the
dealer, "but you got it on me. Turn
'er up"
The card was red.
Dave looked at il stupidity. IT was
q moment or two before he realized
that his money was gone Then. re-
CARELESS of those about, he rushed
through the crowd, flinging bystand-
ers right and left, and plunged into
the night.
He walked down a street until 1t
lost itself on the prairie; then he fol-
lowed prairie trail far into the coun-
try. The air was cold and few drops
of rain were falling in it. but he was
unconscious of the weather. He was
in rage through and through. Slop-
eve was now a dream, a memory,
gone-gone. Everything was gone;
only his revolver and a few cents re-
NAMED. He gripped the revolver
again. With that he was supreme. No
man In all that town of men schooled
in the ways of the West was more
than his equal while that grip lay
In his palm. At the point OF that
muzzle he could demand his money
back-and get 1t.
Then he laughed. Hollow and
empty IL sounded In the night air. but
il was laugh, and II saved his spirit.
"Why, you fool" he chuckled, you
came to town for to learn somethin'.
didn't you? Well, you're learnin'.
Sixty dollars a throw. Education
comes high, don't IL? But you
shouldn't kick. He didn't coax you
in. an gave you every chance to back
away. You butted in and got stung.
Perhaps you've learned somethin'
worth sixty dollars"
In his innocence of the ways Of the
game it never occurred to him that the
friendly stranger who had showed him
how TO play ii was a friend Of the
sharper and probably at this moment
they were dividing his sixty dollars
the price of old Slop-eye-between
them.
Early next morning he was awake
and astir The recollection of his loss
sent a sudden pang through his morn
ing spirits, but he tried to close his
mind TO it.
mo use worryin' over that" he said,
jingling the few coins that now rep
resented his wealth. That's over and
gone. / traded sixty dollars for my
first lesson. Maybe it was bad trade,
He whistled as he finished dressing,
ate his breakfast cheerfully, and set
out in search Of employment.
Almost the first person he met was
the stranger who had schooled him in
the gambling game the night before.
There was something attractive about
his personality; something which In
vited friendship and even confidence,
and yet beneath these emotions Dave
felt a sense of distrust, as though part
of his nature rebelled against the ac-
workmanship.
THAT was the rottenest luck you
had last night" the stranger was say
ing. 81 never saw the beat of IL.
was hopin' you'd stay and raise him
next time; you might have got your
money back that way"
"Oh, don't mind the money!" said
Dave. cheerfully. 81 don't want ii
back. In fact, 1 figure it was pretty
well spent"
''Lots more where IL came from,
eh?" laughed the other. you're from
the ranches, l see, and 1 suppose the
price of steer or two doesn't worry
you a hairs worth"
"From is right" Dave replied. I'm
from them, an / amt goin' back. AS
for honeywell, / spent my last nickel
for breakfast, so I've got to line up a
job before noon."
The stranger extended his hand.
SHAKE" he said. II like you. You're
no squealer, anyway. My name is Con-
ward. Yours?"
rTO BE CONTINUEDJ