But in spite of the fact that Angel was well liked by the cattlemen of the Red Arrow country, his trade fell off badly in the following days. Where he had been able to use four dealers, he was now able to handle his games with but two men. On the next payday the Red Arrow Saloon got the big play.
Nothing was said, but Angel knew that in winning the twenty-five hundred from his father he had caused somebody to have a deep, dark suspicion that there had been something crooked about the game. And this suspicion had been voiced sufficiently to cause the gambling public to seek their games elsewhere.
Angel had made no effort to see the school trustees in behalf of Lila. He did not want her to teach the school. That savored too much of independence—and Angel did not want Lila to be independent. He did not know that she had seen them and had secured the position, because she did not mention it until everything was settled.
Old Rance McCoy received the news with a grim smile.
“Which means she ain’t aimin’ to marry that crooked son of yours, Rance,” observed old Chuckwalla thankfully.
“Yuh don’t know he’s crooked,” retorted Rance.
“Mebby not; but his games is all shot to hell.”
“Yuh mean that the gang has quit him, Chuckwalla?”
“Jist about, Rance. The Red Arrer is doin’ the bulk of separation. The fool and his money ain’t goin’ near the Eagle these days.”
“Chuckwalla, did you tell anybody about that deck?”