To further enlarge my understanding he
contorted his face unprettily. From rolling eyes and outthrust tongue it
was apparent that the squaw man had survived long enough to regret the
inveteracy of his good luck at cards.
"Then what?"
"Man tell you before?" He eyed me with frank suspicion.
"Certainly; you tell, too!"
"That b'other-in-law he win everything back this poor squaw man don't
need no more, and son-of-gun beat it quick; so all liars say Old Pete
turn that trick, but can't prove same, because my b'other-in-law do same
in solitude. And old judge say: 'Oh, well, can't prove same in
courthouse, and only good squaw man is dead squaw man; so
what-the-bad-place!' I think mebbe."
"Go on; what about that next time?"
"You know already," said Pete firmly.
"You tell, too."
He pondered this, his keen little eyes searching my face as he pensively
fondled the axe.
"You know about this time that son-of-gun go 'n' kill a bright lawyer in
Red Gap? I think that cap the climax!"
"Certainly, I know!" This with bored impatience.
"I think, then, you tell me." His seamed face was radiant with cunning.
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