“’F I was you, I’d go back and kill him, Rance,” declared Chuckwalla. “Son or no son—he’s a thief.”
Old Rance turned his eyes back to Chuckwalla.
“He didn’t steal that last pot, Chuckwalla. He miscounted his hand. I should have looked at it.”
“He stole the ace of spades on yuh.”
“Did yuh see him steal it?”
“No, but he did.”
“Yuh can’t prove it, Chuckwalla.”
“I can’t prove he did—no! But it ain’t in the deck; so he must ’a’ stole it ag’in.”
“And that’s yore only evidence that he played crooked?”
“What more do yuh want?”