"Oh, the General's a gentleman, you bet! Horse ranch. Not very big, but makes it go."
"Could not a man like the General, now, help that young fellow—what is his name?"
"His name? Well, he goes by 'The Kid.' His name's Stanton, I think. Yes, Stanton—Vic Stanton. Though he never gets it."
"Well, could not the General help him?" repeated Shock.
"Help The Kid? Not he, nor anyone else. When a horse with blood in him gets a-goin', why, he's got to go till his wind gives out, unless you throw him right down, and that's resky. You've got to wait his time. Then's your chance. And that reminds me," said Ike, rising and knocking the lashes out of his pipe, "that I've got a job on hand. There'll be doin's to-night there after the happy time is over."
Shock looked mystified.
"They'll get the ladies off, you know, and then the fun'll begin."
"Fun?"
Ike winked a long, significant wink. "Yes. Lit'rary Society, you know. A little game in the back room."
"And are you going to play, Ike?"