"I wouldn't mind the loss of the money," he said, "but the idea of being swindled out of it by such a cowboy looking kind of tramp breaks me all up."
Where was Bill? In the sleeper was a smooth-faced young man who had taken off a cowboy suit of clothes, put on a bran new suit of black broadcloth, gold eye-glasses, clean-shaved face. This preacher- looking fellow soon came into the car where the big man and myself were talking over the loss, and sat down near us. I was busy pumping the sucker to see if he had any more money.
"Why, anybody can play that game," he said, and of course I remarked: "The dealer though has every advantage, as he has two cards to your one. If I had some cards, I would show you how it is done."
That was enough for the preacher-looking man, and, slipping back into the sleeper, he procured some cards and dropped them down into one of the seats near me. I saw them and picked them up, observing, "I believe these are the same cards."
The sucker looked at them and declared that he believed they were.
I began playing the cards, but the fat fellow said, "You are pretty good, but you can't handle them like the cowboy did."
"It wants practice," I said.
I practiced on, when up stepped the preacher-looking, gold-glassed individual, saying: "I'll bet you a dollar I can guess the card."
"Oh, I don't want to bet with any boy preacher," I said.
"I'm no boy preacher. I'm studying to become a priest."