Buck Peters: Don’t play cards with strangers, especially stud poker. Dave Owens aims to have Rose rope you into a frame-up. John is in it, too. Mighty easy to plug you in a row.
"A Friend," mused Buck. "An’ Rose is to rope me into a crooked game. I ’m d—d if I believe it." He made as if to tear the paper but changed his mind. "No, I ’ll just keep this. Mebby there ’ll be more of ’em. Jake!" he roared.
A huge, slouching figure with a remarkable growth of hair appeared in the doorway. Jake was a cook because he was too big to ride and too lazy to dig. He ran his fingers through his hair, considering. "At th’ ranch?" he repeated. "There was Pickles an’ Ned, o’ course; and Cock Murray come over to ask—"
"I don’t mean them, I mean some stranger."
"Ther’ ain’t been no stranger. What’d he do?"
"Do? Why—why, he stole all th’ silver, that’s what. It’s gettin’ so I ’ll have to lock up all th’ valuables every time I go out, yo ’re that interested in yore cookin’. Course, you need th’ practice, I agree. Sling on th’ chuck, you blind, deaf elephant. I got to get."
Jake rapidly retreated. In the kitchen he paused and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked scared. "Stole th’ silver! Lock up th’ valuables! He must be loco." Whereupon he stole out of the back door and concealed two stones in his clothes, where they would be handy. At close quarters he was a very grizzly for strength but if Buck should start to shoot him up from a distance, he did not purpose to be altogether at a disadvantage. Thus fortified he prepared to serve the meal.
Jean LaFrance carefully cleaned his boots and stepped into the cabin. "_Bon jour, ma belle Rose_. Breakfast is ready, eh? But for why you make three to eat?"
"No." He took up a bucket of water and a tin basin, going to a bench outside, to wash. In a few moments a horseman loped into view and disappeared again, hidden by an intervening rise. At sight of the rider a look of fear flashed across the face of Jean and he smothered a curse, hastily re-entering the cabin to dry his hands. "Dave!" he exclaimed.
"For why he come some early? But yes! Schatz, he send the money, eh? Eh?"
Rose shrugged her shoulders doubtfully and answered the consequent look of anxiety on Jean’s face by placing her hands on his shoulders and gently shaking him. "Wait till he comes, _mon père_," she encouraged him.