"Well," said Bill, after a pause, "now 't we're here together, I'll tell yo' all. 'Bout five six years ago I was down to Juarez, an' I gits into more kinds o' trouble than Carter's got pills. I'd bin down into Mexico, an' I was headed back fer God's country, an' I jes' drops off'n the train t' watch them skates out t' the merry-go-round they calls a 'race-track,' an' mebbe pick up a bet er two. 'Bout the fourth race I cum t' the conclusion I wa'n't no jedge o' hoss-flesh—not them kind o' hosses, anyhow—an' I lays out t' beat it away from there an' get a train. 'Fore I c'd git off'n the track—they must 'a' seen I was a hick—some dip lifted what was left o' the roll, not fergittin' t' incude my watch an' railroad ticket in the deal!" Bill laughed as he thought of it, and the others laughed with him.
"Funny, ain't it?" said Bill, grinning. "But 't wa'n't so funny then! They shore picked me cleaner 'n a col'-storage chicken, an' when I give my jeans a frisk, I found I was exactly fourteen dollars shy o' havin' a nickel! I bet I walked nine mile 'round thet town, thet evenin', an' never seen a friendly face! An' me hungry 'nuff t' eat raw dog; but I never run acrosst no dog—not no four-legged one, anyway, less'n yo' call them hairless kind dogs—the kind thet looks like a rat on stilts. Fin'ly I strays into this here Silver-Dollar Joe's place—so called on account o' him havin' a bunch of 'em riveted into th' floor an' such. The' was a bald-headed hombrey dealin' faro-bank, an' I stands around watchin' the game, hopin' somebody 'd drop a quarter er somethin'—but nobody done nuthin' like thet—not onto th' floor, 't least. I think I'd of give 'em a battle fer it ef they had! Bimeby the' was a tall guy gits up from the table an' hands out th' most artistic line o' cussin' I'd heard in some time. When a gent kin manhandle language an' discuss his luck like he done, it's a gift! He cum over towards me, an' I reckon I must 'a' looked like a picture o' hard luck, too; an' he says, stopping an' givin' me the once-over, 'Yo' don't look yo' had no rabbit's foot workin' over-time fer yo', neither,' he says.
"'Correct," I says. "As fur 's luck's concerned, it's a case o' horse-an'-horse—only mebbe mine's a mite worse 'n your'n.'
"'I kin lick any man thet says his luck is worse 'n mine!' he says.
"'Commence!' I says, squarin' off.
"He looked me over, an' 'n he says, 'Mebbe we better have somethin' first?' he says.
"'Yo' 're on!' I says, linkin' my arm into his'n so 't he couldn't git away an' change his mind.
"Well, we had one an' then another, him doin' the payin', me havin' declared myself insolvent. We stood leanin' agin' th' bar, me havin' visions that mebbe he'd say somethin' 'bout a san'wich. But seems he had other idees. He fin'ly digs up a ten-dollar gold-piece an' twirls it on the bar careless—an' me meditatin' robbery from the person when I seen it. In a minute I was glad to kep' control o' my yearnin's.
"'This here's the last o' th' Mohigans,' he says. It ain't no good t' me,' he says, 'an' mebbe, ef you'd take it an' set into thet game, yo' might make her run. The's them thet says thet two neg'tives makes a affidavit, er somethin', an' combinin' yo'r luck an' mine mebbe 'll start somethin'. Want t' take a chanct?'
"Did I want t' take a chanct! I did so! Tho' I was some tempted t' buy ten dollars wu'th o' ham an' eggs with th' hull of it.