Kent King ceased untying the thongs around his ankles, and unbuckled a belt from about his waist, which was heavy with gold.
“Here is the dust; but I want one hundred dollars to stake me for a game in Santa Fe.”
“Cusses! Yer isn’t goin’ thar, be yer?”
“I am; there’s no better place in the world to gamble, and there I go.”
“But we goes thar.”
“What care I? Free, I am on equal terms with Captain Dash, your leader.”
“Better not gamble on that, pard, as ther capt’in is ther boss.”
“I do not fear him, and to Santa Fe I go, though you may not see me there. Here is the money.”
“All right, pard; now ther dimints.”
“They are here in this little pocket in the belt—see?”