But at that bar there are half a dozen men who are not travelers or ranchers or riders."

"Wal, fer thet matter, all men in these diggin's have got to be riders. It's a long way from one waterin'-place to another. But you hit into things at thet. There's four or five fellers I never seen before."

"Who's the tall one, with his hat pulled down, so you can only see his black, pointed beard?"

"Thet's Morley. Claims to be a rancher. But if he ain't the boss of the Black Dragon outfit, I'll eat him."

"And the loud fellow--the one with the plaid vest. He's got guns inside that vest, one in each pocket, with the butts pointing out."

"Hell you say! I hadn't noticed. His name is Stud somethin' or other. Seen him before an' ain't crazy about him."

At this juncture the door slammed open, propelled by a vigorous hand, and a stout woman entered with a fierce mien. She had a red shawl tied round her head, and she tramped like a man in heavy boots.

"Sam Butler, you come out of this," she shouted, peremptorily, to a man in the front rank of drinkers. He detached himself with alacrity from his fellows, and amid their boisterous bantering he sheepishly followed the woman out.

"Now thet's the kind of a wife I oughta had," observed Hays, admiringly.

"Let's play poker."

"Shore, but not just among ourselves."

"Got any money, Hank?" asked Happy Jack.

"Did you ever see me broke? Brad, go dig up some suckers. But not thet hombre they call Stud. He didn't get thet name playin' solitaire."

There were only two large gaming-tables, one of which was in use.

Lincoln went among the men to solicit players, returning with Morley and the russet-bearded giant, Montana. There was no formality or greeting between Hays and these men. It was dog eat dog, Wall grasped.

"Make it six-handed. Come an' set in, Wall," said Hays. "Friendly little game of draw. Sky limit."

Wall laughed. "I couldn't play penny ante."

"Wal, I'll stake you."

"No thanks. Some other time. I'd rather watch."

"Excuse me, sir, but we don't care for watchers," interposed Morley, curtly.

No sooner had they seated themselves than the man Hays had called Stud strode up. He was a little fellow, but forceful, not one who would be good to meet in a narrow, dangerous place.

"Am I bein' left out of this on purpose?" he demanded, and evidently he addressed Hays.

"Lincoln got up the game," replied Hays, coolly, returning glance for glance.

"You ask my friends to set in, an' not me."

"Wal, if you're so damn keen about it, why, set in with us," went on Hays, fingering a deck of cards. "But if you want to know bad, I'm not stuck on playin' with you."

"Mean thet to insult me?" Stud queried, sharply, his right hand rising to the lapel of his open vest. If Wall had not observed the bulge of two guns inside his vest he would have divined from Stud's action that there was one at least. Probably this fellow was a surly, cross-grained type whom contact with the bottle made unreasonable.

"Not atall," replied Hays, leaning back in his chair. That significant movement of Stud's had not been lost upon him. A little cold glint appeared in his pale eyes. "Reckon you're too slick a poker-player for Hank Hays. I want a run fer my money."

"Slick, eh? Wal, I don't mind bein' called thet. It's a compliment.