"He didn't say," answered Big Tom. "Who's doin' the scalpin'?" he asked, going over to the table, where he gradually grew more restless as he watched.
"Some of these days, when I grows up," grinned Wilkes, "I'm goin' up th' trail with a herd, like a reg'lar cow-puncher. Dodge may be top-heavy with marshals, but I'd like to see it again, with money in my pockets."
Slim grunted. "Huh!" He looked over his hand, and drawled: "Th' last time you went up you put on too many airs. Just because Cimarron let you play segundo once in a while when he went on ahead to size up th' water or some river we would have to cross, you got too puffed up. I'm aimin' to be th' second boss th' next trip, an' I'll hand you a few jobs that'll keep you out of mischief."
Big Tom watched the winner rake in the chips and could stand it no longer. "Say," he growled, "anybody gettin' tired, an' want to drop out?"
Dailey looked up. "I only won two dollars in two hours, an' I got some work to do. Everybody bein' willin', I'll go out an' bury my winnin's."
Big Tom took his place. "I'm shore of one thing: I can't lose th' ranch, for I don't own it."
A round or two had been played when Big Tom drew his first openers. Johnny raised it and cards were drawn. After it had gone around twice, the others dropped out. Big Tom raised and Johnny helped it along. The betting became stiffer and Big Tom laughed. "I hope you keep on boostin' her."
"You can't get me out of this pot with dynamite," replied Johnny, pushing out a raise.
Big Tom's gun was out before he left his seat. His chair crashed backward and he leaned over the table. "Meanin'?" he snarled.