“‘Whence and whither,’ answered I, as surly as could be; ‘to the devil at a gallop, and you’d better ride on and tell him I’m comin’.’
“‘You can do the errand yourself,’ answered the stranger, larfin’; ‘my road don’t lie that way.’
“As he spoke, I looked round, and saw, what I was pretty sure of before, that it was the man with the belt full of money.
“‘Ain’t you the stranger I see’d in the inn yonder?’ asked he.
“‘And if I am,’ says I, ‘what’s that to you?’
“‘Nothin’,’ said he; ‘nothin’, certainly.’
“‘Better ride on,’ says I, ‘and leave me quiet.’
“‘Will so, stranger; but you needn’t take it so mighty onkind. A word ain’t a tomahawk, I reckon,’ said he. ‘But I rayther expect your losin’s at play ain’t put you in a very church-goin’ humour; and, if I was you, I’d keep my dollars in my pocket, and not set them on cards and dice.’
“It riled me to hear him cast my losin’s in my teeth that way.
“‘You’re a nice feller,’ said I, ‘to throw a man’s losses in his face. A pitiful chap you are,’ says I.