“Goin’ to stay?”
“Prob’ly not.”
They ceased the conversation long enough to order their breakfast.
“Do they play pretty heavy around here?” asked Sleepy.
“Well, pretty good. Welcome ain’t as good as Red Arrow, but we get a pretty fair play here. I’ve only been here a few days. I’m from Red Arrow. That’s northwest of here, less than twenty miles. Pretty good place.”
“Good play up there, eh?”
“You bet. Say, you boys don’t happen to be lookin’ for an investment, do yuh?”
“All depends,” said Hashknife seriously.
“I see. Well, what made me ask was the fact that there’s a bargain in Red Arrow. Feller by the name of McCoy has kinda broke his pick up there. Owns the Eagle Saloon and gamblin’-house. Pulled a funny deal on his own father, and aced him out of a lot of money. Queered his own game. Fact. I hear he’s had to close the place. And he sure had a big play.”
“Would he sell cheap?” asked Hashknife, attacking his ham and eggs.