CHAPTER XIII
AN OBSERVANT OBSERVER
JIM ACKERMAN strode into Pop Hayes' saloon, where he found the proprietor and Charley James squabbling acrimoniously over the value of a cribbage hand.
"Not satisfied with gettin' a twenty-four hand," snorted Charley, "he tries to make it twenty-seven, shovin' 'em around like he was playin' three-card monte! You old fool! You've counted them runs once more'n you oughter; but I don't care how much you mills 'em; it's twenty-four!"
"I ain't done no more countin' than they'll stand!"
"I dunno what they they'll stand; but I knows what I'll stand. It's twenty-four!"
"Soon as you gets two bits up," sneered Pop, "you lose yore nerve. You can play all day for fun, an' never loose a yelp; but when you've got money up you acts like you was stabbed "
"That so? You forget how to count when there's money up!"
"When yo're winnin' everything is lovely; but when yo're losin' you go on th' prod!"
"You don't have to go; yo're allus rarin' around on
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