Ned was still scanning the check when Jack Butte appeared in the doorway.
"Just in time, Jack!" greeted Ned with a grin. "Hold this money for McClure. We are hooking up for a two-hand game, gang for gang."
There was a roar of applause from the Valley threshers. Above the noise rose the voice of Easy Murphy. He was performing the sailor's hornpipe before the shifty form of Snoopy Bill.
"Come across wid yer dust," challenged Murphy. "Fifty till fifty we skin ye aloive!"
"Taken!" was the eager acceptance. "Here, Butte's the dough. You can hand it back when the cows come home."
Butte was deluged with wagers.
"Hold your horses!" cried he, lifting protesting hands. "Two at a time. Come along quietly and we'll fix it all snug."
Taking out his note-book he made punctilious entry of all stakes. His task completed he took the trouble to plainly restate conditions.
"I'll bank this bunch of grass," he concluded. "The game winds up at eight P.M. on the last day of October. We'll meet in Louie Swale's Emporium and cash in. Meet me there at ten o'clock. And, gentlemen——"
He paused, reading the faces of the bosses and their men with keen eyes.