As far as the eye could reach there remained the same broad expanse. There was little to break the monotony.
Barney and Pomp had taken advantage of a lull in their duties to play a social game of poker in the rear of the wagon.
These two unique characters, although the warmest of friends, were nevertheless always engaged in badgering each other or the perpetration of practical jokes.
“Bejabers, I’ll go yez ten betther on that, yez black ape,” cried Barney, throwing down a handful of chips. “I’ll take me worrud it’s a big bluff yez are playin’. Yez can’t fool me.”
“Youse will jest find out dis nigger neber plays a bluff game,” retorted Pomp with a chuckle. “Jest yo’ look out fo’ yo’sef, Pish.”
“Begorra, I ain’t afraid av yez an’ I’ll go ye the tin,” cried Barney.
There was a broad grin upon Pomp’s face. He quietly picked up ten chips and then put in ten more.
“Hold on, Pish, I’ll go youse ten better.”
“Call yez, be hivens!” cried Barney, chucking in ten more.
Then he threw down his hand.