"'If this yere limit was any size at all, a blooded gent might stand some show.Which I'd bluff you outen your moccasins if I wasn't reepressed by a limit whereof a child should be ashamed.I shore don't know how I mislays my se'f-respect to sech a pitch as to go settin' into these yere paltry plays.'
"'Which you see yere a lot!' says the avaricious gent, shakin' with delight, an' lookin' at them three crowned heads he holds; 'don't howl all night about a wrong what's so easy to rectify.We removes the limits, an' you can spread your pinions an' soar to any altitoode you please.'
"Cherokee looks at him hateful as a murderer; he seems like he's bein' goaded.Then, like he's made up his mind to die right yere, Cherokee turns in without no more words an' bets five hundred dollars.It makes Ellis, who's new an' plumb poor that a-way, sort o' draw a long breath.
"'Which you'll climb some for this pot if you gets it,' says Cherokee, after his money's up; an' his tones is shore resentful.
"The avaricious gent thinks it's a bluff.He deems them three kings good.Cherokee most likely don't better by the draw.If he does, it's nothin' worse than aces up, or a triangle of jacks.That's the way this sordid sport lines up Cherokee's hand."'Merely to show you the error of your ways,' he remarks, 'an' to teach you to lead a 'happier an' a better life, I sees your five hundred an' raises her back the same.' An' the avaricious gent counts off a thousand dollars.'Thar,' he says when it's up, 'now go as far as you like.
Make it a ceilin' play if the sperit moves you.'
"'I sees it an' lifts her for five hundred more,' retorts Cherokee.
An' he shoves his dust to the center."Cherokee's peevishness is gone, an' his fault-findin' is over.He's turned as confident an'
easy as a old shoe.
"It strikes the avaricious gent as alarmin', this quick switch in the way Cherokee feels.It's cl'ar, as one looks in his face, that them trio of kings ain't no sech monstrosities as they was.He ain't half so shore they wins.After lookin' a while he says, an' his tones shows he's plumb doobious:
"'That last raise over-sizes me.'
"`That's it!' groans Cherokee, like his contempt for all mankind is comin' back.'By the time I gets a decent hand every sport at the table's broke.What show do I have! However, I pinches down to meet your poverty.Put up what stuff you has.'
"The avaricious gent slowly gets up his last peso; he's out on a limb, an' he somehow begins to feel it.When the money's up, Cherokee throws down three aces an' a pa'r of nines, an' rakes the dust.
"'Next time,' says Cherokee, 'don't come fomentin' 'round poker games which is strangers to you complete.Moreover, don't let a gent talk you into fal'cies touchin' his hand.Which I'm the proud proprietor of them three aces when I breaks the pot.You-all lose this time; but if you'll only paste them dogmas I gives you in your sombrero, an' read 'em over from time to time, you'll notice they flows a profit.We three, 'concloodes Cherokee, turnin' ag'in to Dan an' Ellis, 'will now resoome our wrong-doin' at the p'int where this yere former plootocrat interrupts.A benign Providence has fixed me plenty strong.Wherefore, if either of you sports should tap me for a handful of hundreds, them veins of mine will stand the drain.Dan, it's your deal.'"
