"Westward for me," replied Keeler; "and you?"
"Well, I reckon I've played my last game of poker in Nevada City. The East for me. With a little dust for capital, this country seems right good. Why, out there in the Sierras, you know as well as I do, the soil's too poor to feed lizards. Not much like the blue grass country of Kaintuck."
"Well," said Keeler, "if I had made my pile, Maryland would be good enough for me. As it is, California is all right, barring those same pesky lizards."
"The boys set too stiff a pace out there, though," replied the ex-miner. "Why, many a Saturday night I've seen fellows drop into town with a hundred and fifty dollars in dust, and then borrow the money to take the stage out Monday morning."
"I don't go in for sporting myself," said Keeler, "so I guess my character won't be ruined. The churches have got started, and they are giving the saloons a good deal of trouble."
"By thunder! that reminds me," quoth the Californian, "this here is a Christian country, and I'm going to join the church, first thing I do."
"And spin California yarns to a Sunday-School class," suggested Keeler. "Bet your class will be a large one."
"I'll do it, by thunder! The very thing! And I'll shoot any lad as gets impertinent."
Keeler was clearly out of his element, and thought it time to terminate the brief acquaintance.
"John Keeler is my name; and I can swear I've seen you in Nevada City. But you have the best of me."