"How
like a Kentucky Laughton. Thoroughbred stock, all!" He tossed the bag in
his hand. "'Tis why they are where they are today." Then his keen old
eyes softened. "And why they are what they are, today. Bless her tender
heart to stoop to an old cattle man in the mire. As for this - I must
see Irish Mike," and he hurried off with surprising speed.
Bets rose. Every gambler had been apprised of the sure thing and flocked
to the betting like bears to a honey tree.
"Have ye put up ye'r money, Eric?" asked Irish Mike, late the next
night.
"Yes," said Eric, briefly.
"Ah. So." Mike's shrewd gave slid from the young man's face.
"They do say that Slick-heels Saul is beginnin' to worry over the
$20,000 he's staked. The shoestring gang have gathered in the
information fr'm th' express agent that the auld cattle man owns a big
Spanish grant down in the valley, and has $50,00 to his credit in
certificates of deposit from the express company. 'Tis as good as gold."
"Mike, have you ever seen him before?"
"I never spile sport, me boy.
Pages:
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121