sentence entry into my journal.
It had been a short night.
And instead of a roosterâs crowing, it was Cookieâs cackling that proclaimed the coming dawn and the grind ahead.
I was at my usual station behind the serving table when I looked up and saw Wolf Rikerâs face directly in front of me and Pepperâs whiskers directly behind him.
âCoffee and biscuit,â Riker said.
âGood morning, Mr. Riker, and how are you this morning?â
âIf youâre asking how I feel, Guth, I feel splendid.â
And he did, indeed, look splendid, with no aftereffect or even any hint of the seizure I had witnessed the night before. If anything, he seemed even more vital than usual this morning.
âBy the way, Guth. I meant to ask you. Do you ride? Horses, I mean.â
âI have ridden horses, Mr. RikerââI handed him his coffee and biscuitââbut not western saddle.â
âEnglish? Is that it?â
âYes, sir.â
âHow civilized . . . and impractical out here. Pepper, would you kindly pick a gelding out of the remuda for Guth?â
âTobacco ought to fit the bill,â Pepper said.
âAnd have somebody throw on a saddle, a western saddle.â
âSure, since thatâs all we got. He can use Donavanâs.â
âGood. Have Dogbreath see to it. And Guth, take a turn or two along the herd. Think you can manage that with a western saddle?â
âI think so.â
âJust a minute, Mr. Riker.â
âWhat is it, Cookie?â
âI heard what you said about him joy ridinâ out there . . .â
âDid I say anything about joy riding?â
âThatâs what it sounds like, and I need him around here to do a full dayâs work with me.â
âWell, youâll just have to do a full dayâs work without him. I want every man on this drive to be able to ride hard and shoot straight.â
Riker took a swallow of coffee and as he bit into the biscuit French Frank spoke up.
âMr. Riker. Thereâs something you ought to know.â
âWhatâs that?â
âThat saddle that belonged to Donavan now belongs to me.â
âHowâd you come by it?â
âGambled. Me and Latimer. I drew high card and won.â
âWhatâre you going to do with two saddles? You got two asses?â
âNo, I ainât. But itâs my saddle fair and square.â
Riker took another swallow from the cup and looked at me.
âWhat do you say to that, Guth? Want to fight him for it?â
I did not want to fight French Frank, or anybody.
âNo, sir. But Iâll make a bet with you, French Frank.â
âWhat kind of bet?â
âHow much do you think that saddleâs worth?â
âIâd say up to twenty dollars.â
âVery well, Iâll double that. Forty dollars if you winâagainst the saddle if I win. High card. You have a deck of cards with you?â
âAlways.â
âIâll even sweeten the deal. You can draw two cards against my one. My card has to be higher than both of yours combined. Face cards donât count. Aces count one apiece.â
âI thought you wanted to get an early start this morning,â Chandler, the trail boss, reminded Wolf Riker. âWeâre burning daylight.â
âThis wonât take long,â I said. âIf French Frank wants to bet.â
âForty dollars,â French Frank scratched his chin. âI get two cards to your one. Right?â
âRight. Shall we get on with it? As Mr. Chandler said, âweâre burning daylight.ââ
French Frank produced a deck of well-worn cards from the pocket of his corduroy shirt.
âYouâre on. Who draws first?â
âYou, of course. But . . .â
âBut what?â
âMay I shuffle?â
French Frank slapped the dank deck into my outstretched palm.
I proceeded to shuffle my Bureau of
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