"Meanin' I stand to lose it, eh?"
"Oh, gosh, no! You're steppin' on your bridle. I was congratulatin' you on your wealth."
"I ain't seen that you been flashin' any money," said the cowboy.
"Nope. That ain't what money's made for. And I never bet on a sure thing. Ain't no fun in that."
The giant sheepman, whose movements were as deliberate as the sun's, slowly reached in his pocket and drew out a leather pouch. He counted out forty dollars in gold-pieces.
"I'll lay it even," he said, his eyes twinkling, "that Bud Shoop can outshoot any man in the crowd."
"I'll take ten of that," said the Starr man.
"And I'll take ten," said another cowboy.
"John," said Shoop, turning to the sheepman, "you're a perpendicular dam' fool."
Word went forth that High-Chin Bob, of the Starr, and Bud Shoop were to shoot a match for a thousand dollars a side, and some of the more enthusiastic believed it. In a few minutes the street was empty of all save the ponies at the hitching-rails.