THE END OF EWING’S STORY, = 147 
‘At the time I didn’t think much of it, though, 
an’ I don’t reckon nobody else did neither. Sweat- 
ers was thick in there an’ what with the heat and th’ 
tobakker smoke we wasn’t expectin’ nobody to look 
like no posy, as th’ feller says. 
‘“Well, Mallory come in the jackpot when Ewing 
opened her, and so did one of the cowpunchers. 
They each drawed three cyards. All on ’em holp, 
an’ the bettin’ was kind o’ swif’ for a minute. 
Then a call come an’ they showed down, with Mal- 
lory an’ Hudson holdin’ threes an’ Ewing flashin’ 
tens full on queens. 
‘¢ “Holy Moses!’ says Mallory, ‘j’ye ever see such 
luck!’ 
‘¢ *T allus have pretty good luck—of a sort,’ says 
Ewing. 
“‘T remember him sayin’ that an’ shufflin’ th’ 
cyards for deal, because jest then this here stranger 
I tells you about steps around the table, across from 
Ewing, an’ pokes a 45 cannon in his face. 
‘« ¢Yes,’ he says, ‘an’ you’re goin’ to have some 
more o’ that luck,’ he says, ‘right now! Y’ been 
follerin’ me around long enough. You’re either 
goin’ to promise me t’ hotfoot it back where you be- 
long, or I’ll jest about blow the top of your head 
off.’ 
‘‘Nobody knew what the feller was talkin’ about, 
but he shore looked mean enough t’ turn milk. He 
was shore pizen, that feller. 
