"I'll——" Blake began. But Gavin suddenly cursed him.
"Do you want me to handle you?" he demanded. In his voice came the hoarse, growling note it had held when he had spoken to the man pinned against the wall. His hand clamped his brother's wrist and his eyes blazed. Half drunk as he was, Blake apparently recognized these danger signals.
"Let go," he said. "I won't start anything."
His brother eyed him for a moment and turned to Paul Sam.
"How much do you want to bet?"
For answer the Indian pulled forth a huge roll of bills bound by a buckskin thong. They represented sales of steers, cayuses, skins of marten, beaver, bear and lynx, bounties on coyotes and mountain lion.
"Bet um all!" he announced succinctly.
"See what he's got," Gavin said to Angus, "and we'll cover it."
Angus sorted out the currency. It was in bills of various denominations and various stages of dilapidation. The amount totaled a little over twelve hundred dollars.
"We'll put up a check," said Gerald.