"Bring up the licker, Zac!"
The old fellow brought us the Rye and four glasses on a tray. We drank. But when he had again removed the glasses and held out his hand for the four "bits," or twenty-five-cent pieces, habit required, his unprincipled customer produced a revolver which he very deliberately cocked and laid down upon the table beside him.
"D'yu see that?"
"You bet—Mr. Hasbrouck."
"Wall, then! don't stick out yure paws for money but bring along the licker when we ask for it."
Old "Zac's" lower jaw dropped as he looked in the face of him who spoke. There was a general shout or rather scream of laughter from the three other card-players. The face of Butch' was, however, as inflexible as if it had been hewn from granite.
"What du yu mean?" was the question at length propounded.
"Exsag'ly what I say. Jest mind your business, and we'll mind ourn."
After this, we continued playing.