The sounds grew louder and soon stopped outside, and a laughing voice said, "There's Dailey, th' hoss thief, tryin' to learn th' game. He's a persistent dummy, for he's allus tryin'."
"He don't know one card from another," laughed a second voice.
"Hey!" shouted Dailey. "Come in here, you fellers, an' I'll show you how much I know!"
Slim appeared, followed closely by Larry and Arch.
"They ought to make you roll up yore sleeves, you mosshead," said Larry, grinning.
"Sit down there!" ordered Dailey, "an' I'll have you rollin' up th' bottoms of yore pockets!"
"Wimmin' an children first," quoth Fanning. "Come on, Larry."
"Did you hear that?" snorted Larry, staring at him. "I shore will, now!"
"This is goin' to be pay-day for me," said Dailey in great content. "Where th' devil are we at, anyhow?"
Over at the bar Johnny and Slim were carrying on a low-voiced conversation and figuring on a piece of paper, while Arch and Dave entertained each other at the other end of the counter. After a few minutes Johnny nodded his head in quiet satisfaction, put the paper in his pocket and, going up for a few words with Arch and Dave, wandered over to the table and sat down close to it, leaning back to enjoy the fight. He always found keen enjoyment in watching the storekeeper play, for Dailey's red-brown face was suffused with wrinkles of good nature, quite independent of how his fortune tended; his high, shining forehead and the bald spot above and behind it reflected the light and glistened. The eternal cigar he chewed on, cold, stale, and odorous, bobbed animatedly and his shrewd black eyes peered out from under bushy eyebrows, glittering, glinting, and alive with his emotions, like twin mirrors on which were reflected the subtle complexities of a nature enriched by a life crowded with experiences. He had no poker face, but knowing the sad fact, he had made an adept liar out of the one to which Nature had given so much expression.