"A half-breed issuing orders to a white man and being obeyed!" thought Ralph.
"Bring up a pail of water from the river," commanded Crusoe.
The little man had already become the camp drudge, it appeared.
Stack sat down at a little distance from the game with a childish assumption of injured dignity. During the deals Joe alternately chaffed and reviled him coarsely. Ralph could not find it in his heart to feel very sorry for the little man. "He is a sneak," he thought. He kept his ears open for any word that might throw light on this obscure and curious situation.
After a while Stack said humbly: "Doctor Cowdray, if you please I'd like to have a word with you before you go."
"I'm damned if you do!" cried Joe. "You'd like to play him off against me, wouldn't you; and me against him, and get your private pickings off the both of us! Me and Cowdray we ain't got no use for each other. We don't make no pretences. But you! You snide! you want to square yourself with him, don't you? After telling me you trailed him all the way from the coast!"
"I have nothing to say to you!" cried Stack, with a display of childish fury that caused all three of his mates to shout with laughter.
A light broke on Ralph. Trailed all the way from the coast! To learn this was worth having come for! But why anybody should want to trail him was more of a mystery than ever. He determined to find out.
Meanwhile the game went on with four players. The fortune of the cards changed, and Joe Mixer began to win, principally from Ralph. His good humour was restored. This was as good a way to get square as any. As Ralph's pile of matches melted away, Joe triumphed insolently. He doubled and trebled the ante whenever it came to him. Finally he said:
"A dollar to draw and two to play. Does that scare you off, Doc?"