The deportment of the four Outlaws underwent a sudden change.
“Really,” said Buzzsaw, “he looks like a nice, decent old brave. Perhaps we’d better let him into the game.”
The others agreed to this, and, a chair being placed, old Joe advanced unsteadily and seated himself between Stover and Pope.
“The limit is fifty cents, chief,” explained South-paw.
“Let’s make it a dollar,” urged Gentle Willie, success having given him confidence. “What do you say, Mr. Lo?”
“Make-um it anything,” grunted old Joe. “No limit suit me.”
“Well, he is a sport!” chuckled Clinker. “Tell you what, we’ll call it a dollar limit and all Jack pots. Understand that, Tecumseh?”
“Lemme see. Mebbe so,” answered old Joe. “You make little explanation.”
“It will be like taking candy from the baby,” whispered Clinker in Gentle Willie’s ear; while Buzzsaw explained to the Indian, who listened in a dull, half-comprehending way.
But when the game was resumed old Joe seemed to catch onto the run of it in a manner which surprised the others.