“He give me a sour look at that. 'Well, that don't correspond none with the initials on the saddle' he says.
“'Shucks,' I says, 'that don't signify nothin'. Mexicans is the biggest hoss thieves living besides, I ain't feelin' disputatious to-night, so I'll just close up my game an' go get my scoffin's.'
“'But I must find this man' he says, 'It means a great deal to him—an' me.'
“'What do you call a great deal?'
“'Money' he says.
“I says: 'See here, pardner, don't you go givin' no money to no Mexican, because he'll only gamble it away on three-card monte.'
“'I don't mean your Mexican friend,' he says, like a snappin' turtle, 'I'm after a man named Robert McGraw.'
“'Oh,' I says, 'you mean that red-headed outlaw from up country? Why I didn't know he was wanted. What's it this time? He ain't got himself mixed up in more trouble, has he?'
“'I prefer to refrain from discussin' the details,' says this wealthy gent, 'with a perfect stranger.'
“'Oh, very well' I says. 'I didn't seek this interview, but when you mentioned the hoss I could tell by the look in your eye that McGraw's been robbin' you o' somethin'. Well, you might own that hoss, but you've got to prove property. McGraw sold the hoss to Enrique an' lit out for Bakersfield, an' I won the hoss from Enrique at faro. I been keepin' him in the corral in order to give the Mexican a chance to buy him back. But McGraw's not in town. He won't be here for a week or two yet.'