“‘I had a habit of running my fingers over the rung of my chair, to keep ’em in right shape. ’Twas a thing nobuddy could complain of, and the game just held on to its hat and flew. How much money you had was the limit, and to put my little bank on the other side of the river, quick, was the idea of the alum-eyes.
“‘I forgot everythin’. I was fair hollerin’ inside for joy. My buckers had a good square chance to catch me at it, if they could, and I was haulin’ money when—well, Fortune had patted me on the back with one hand, while she got ready with a black-jack in the other. In my state of feelin’ I put a heel, a chewin’-gum-covered-heel, on the rung of that chair and took it off again, without noticin’. As the play stood, the outfit had me whipsawed. I drug my fingers over the rung of that chair, that chewin’-gum-covered-rung, without noticing; then I wiggled my fingers in a Chinee ketch-as-ketch-can over the box and raised ’em with a playin’-card firmly stuck to each finger. Then I noticed, yes; and everybody noticed. Silence fell six foot deep. One of them alum-eyes says:
“‘“That may be magnifercent, but it ain’t Hoyle.”
“‘And I excused myself by ducking under the table and jumping over the banisters.
“‘Once on the street, I hoopled her for the corner. My play was to wait till the crowd went out, and then see the old man, who had a rubber-band on my roll.
“‘I thought I’d peek around the corner until all was clear, then rush the boss with my hard-luck game of talk, extract a little of the juice of the root of evil from him, then fold up my legs like a jack-rabbit and silently lift myself through the breeze, back to the sagebush—back to where the prairie-dog and the owl and the rattlesnake live in harmony together—never excepting the rattlesnake, so long’s there’s plenty of young dogs and owls.
“‘The game must have busted when I took the fence, for here come the bunch of alum-eyes right up the street. I had the curiosity to wait and hear what they was talkin’ about, as I had a corner to duck behind when they come close. Well, I waited, and didn’t hear nothin’ I’d care to write home to mother. They made me so cussed mad, I overstayed my time. Just when they got within range, I started to hop swiftly backwards. But I didn’t. No. My feet had grew fast to that sidewalk. Seems the city had been mending the block pavement, as usual, and some horney-souled son of toil had spilt a square yard of coal-tar on the sidewalk. Me to the middle of the coal-tar district, of course—you can chew coal-tar, you know; I’ve done it.
“‘So, as I remarked, I didn’t gracefully side-step. Exactly not. I gave one yank and landed with my knees up in the air. Them feet was riveted fast, you bet, and my joints just had to yield accordin’.
“‘“What is this we have?” said one alum-eye.
“‘There was a gas lamp on the corner. They knew me by my face.