We had drunk the whiskey. Under its warming influence my tongue loosened. Moreover there was something strong and kindly in the hearty voice and the rough face of this rudely clad plainsman, black bearded to the piercing black eyes.
“Yes; of my last cent.”
“All at gamblin’, mebbe?”
“No. Only a little, but that strapped me. The hotel had robbed me of practically everything else.”
“Had, had it? Wall, what’s the story?”
I told him of the hotel part; and he nodded.
“Shore. You can’t hold the hotel responsible. You can leave stuff loose in regular camp; nobody enters flaps without permission. But a room is a different proposition. I’d rather take chances among Injuns than among white men. Why, you could throw in with a Sioux village for a year and not be robbed permanent if the chief thought you straight; but in a white man’s town—hell! Now, how’d you get tangled up with this other outfit?”
“Which?” I queried.
“That brace outfit I found you with.”
“The fellow is a stranger to me, sir,” said I. “I simply was foolish enough to stake what little I had on a sure thing—I was bamboozled into following the lead of the rest of you,” I reminded. “Now I see that there was a trick, although I don’t yet understand. After that the fellow assaulted the lady, my 133 companion, and you stepped in—for which, sir, I owe you more thanks than I can utter.”