“Ay, every ticket, except one or two.”
“Who's won Butcher's mare?”
“Tell us that if you can,” said a huge fellow, with a red worsted comforter round his throat; “that's exactly what we want to know.”
“Well, I'm whipped if it ain't among those numbers,” said a pale man with one eye, “and I 'll give fifty dollars for one of 'em.”
“You would, would you?” said another, jeering. “Lord, how soft you 've grown! Why, she's worth five hundred dollars, that 'ere beast!”
“Butcher gave a mustang and two hundred and seventy for her,” cried another.
“Well, she broke his neck, for all that,” growled out he of the red neckcloth; “you'll see that some chap will win her that don't want a beast, and she 'll be sold for a trifle.”
“And there's a free passage to Galveston, grub and liquor, in the same ticket,” said another,—“an almighty sight of luck for one man!”
“It ain't me, anyhow,” said red cravat; and then, with a tremendous oath, added: “I've been a putter in at these Texas lotteries for four years, and never won anything but a blessed rosary.”
“What became of it, Dick?” said another, laughing.