The black-jack game playing dwindled to nothing, and the dealer closed the game until some customers showed up. In the meantime he went across the street and up to the corner to the post-office.
Old Rance left the bar and went over to the poker table; not with any intention of playing again, but merely drawn by the fascination of the game. In a few minutes the dealer came back, handing Angel a letter as he came past the table. Angel glanced at the postmark on the letter. It was from Medicine Tree.
Jim Langley dropped out of the game and old Rance took his chair. He indicated with a shake of his head that he did not wish to play. Angel signaled to the dealer to take his place, and as soon as the substitution was made, he went over to the end of the bar, tore open the envelope, and began reading the letter.
Jim Parker closed his store at nine o’clock and went home. He had heard that Rance McCoy was bucking the game in the Eagle, plunging heavily on the black-jack game. But Parker was too tired to go over and see just what was going on.
Lila was in her room, which adjoined the Parkers’ bedroom, reading, when Jim Parker and his wife came up to bed, and she heard them discussing what Parker had heard.
“Oh, the Eagle is filled up, they tell me,” said Parker. “I didn’t go over. One of the boys said that old Rance had a roll of bills that would choke a horse, and he’s bettin’ ’em high. What Angel will do to him will be plenty.”
“Hasn’t Rance any sense at all?” queried Mrs. Parker.
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Parker sleepily. “Maybe he don’t know that Angel is a crooked dealer. He wouldn’t expect his own son to steal from him, would he? I’m glad tomorrow is Sunday.”
“Somebody ought to warn old Rance,” said Mrs. Parker.
“Well, don’t try it, my dear. It’s none of our business. If he wants to go against a crooked deal—let him go.”