“You’ll regret this hasty speech to-morrow night. Follow me, and you’ll wear diamonds!”
“Yes—on the seat of my pants,” I rejoins bitterly. And all them somewhat diverse prophecies came to pass.
When we woke, after noon, ’twas pretty well known how the election went, and we was guyed unmerciful.
But Stranger wasn’t noways dejected. “Rumor—mere rumor. ‘Out of the nettle danger we may pluck the flower safety,’” he spouts, waving his hands like a windmill. “I’ve been in worse emergencies, and always emerged.”
I was considerable sore and was for not showing up to turn over the money, but he persuaded me.
“At the worst Frenchy owes me ten that I won fair on the second bet last night,” he says. “If I have to collect that, I aim to charge him something for collectin’. I had that in mind last night if the green hadn’t come when my dollar was on it.”
I sees reason in this, and oils my guns.
Frenchy was waitin’ with his lookout, gay and cheerful. “Did you bring your sack?” was his greeting.
“Why, no, I forgot. Hi! Bud!” Stranger gives a boy five dollars. “Bring an ore sack to the barkeep for me, and keep the change.”
We gets Brown with the package of stake money and prognostications on our way through the crowd to a back room. Brown busts the package and begins the hollow mockery.