"
"That's foolish. I cheated the kid out of it. I'll give it back to him
and all the rest I won."
Denver paused and studied the other as one amazed by such stupidity.
"Pal, did you ever try, in the old days, to _give_ anything to the old
Black Jack?"
"H'm. Well, he sure hated charity. But this ain't charity."
"It ain't in your eyes. It is in Terry's. If you insist, he'll get sore.
No, Joe. Let him think he owes you that money. Let him start in working
it off for you--honest work. You ain't got any ranch work. Well, set him
to cutting down trees, or anything. That'll help to hold him. If he makes
some gambling play--and he's got the born gambler in him--you got one
last thing that'll be apt to keep him here."
"What's that?"
"Kate."
Pollard stirred in his chair.
"How d'you mean that?" he asked gruffly.
"I mean what I said," retorted Denver. "I watched young Black Jack
looking at her. He had his heart in his eyes, the kid did. He likes her,
in spite of the frosty mitt she handed him. Oh, he's falling for her,
pal--and he'll keep on falling. Just slip the word to Kate to kid him
along.
Pages:
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240