Kit smiled at her entreaty, patted her hair, and dug out a worn deck of cards and shuffled them, slowly regarding the sleeping Indian the while.
“What’s on your mind?” demanded Cap Pike, returning with his white locks dripping from a skimpy bath. “Our grub stake is about gone, and you’ve doubled the outfit. What’s the next move?”
“I’m playing a game in futures with Miguel,” stated Kit, shuffling the cards industriously.
“Sounds loco to me, Bub,” observed the veteran. “Present indications are not encouraging as to futures there. Can’t you see that he’s got a jar from which his mind isn’t likely to recover? Not crazy, you know, not a lunatic or dangerous, but just jarred from Pima man back to Yaqui child. That’s about the way I reckon it.”
“You reckon right, and it’s the Yaqui child mind I’m throwing the cards for. Best two out of three wins.”
“What the–––”
“Highest cards for K. Rhodes, and I hike across the border with our outfit; highest cards for Miguel and my trail is blazed for the red gold of Alisal. This is Miguel’s hand––ace high for Miguel!”
Again he shuffled and cut.
“A saucy queen, and red at that! Oh, you charmer!”
“You got to hustle to beat that, Bub. Go on, don’t be stingy.”