est line of sure-thing
stock--strippers, humps, rounds, squares, briefs and marked backs--that
ever were dealt west of the Missouri. Judas Priest, but this is a roarer
of a burg! What _it_ ain't got I never seen--and I ain't no spring
goslin', neither. I've plenty sand in my craw. You ain't been plucked
yet?"

"No, sir. I never gamble."

"Wish I didn't, but my name's Jakey and I'm a good feller. Say, I'm
supposed to be wise, too, but they trimmed me two hundred dollars. Now I'm
gettin' out." He groaned. "Take the train in a few minutes. Dasn't risk
myself on the street again. Sent my baggage down for fear I'd lose that.
Say," he added, watching me, "looks like you was goin' out yourself. One
of them surveyor fellers, workin' for the railroad?"

"It might be so, sir," I replied.

He half sat up.

"You'll want to throw a leg, I bet. Lemme tell you. It's a hell of a town
but it's got some fine wimmen; yes, and a few straight banks, too. You're
no crabber or piker; I can see that. You go to the North Star. Tell Frank
that Jakey sent you. They'll treat you white. You be sure and say Jakey
sent you. But for Gawd's sake keep out of the Big Tent."

"The Big Tent?" I uttered. "Why so?"

"They'll sweat you there," he groaned lugubriously. "Say, friend, could
you lend me twenty dollars? You've still got your roll. I ain't a stivver.
I'm busted flat."

"I'm sorry that I can't accommodate you, sir," said I. "I have no more
money than will see me through--and according to your story perhaps not
enough."

"I've told you of the North Star. You mention Jakey sent you. You'll make
more than your twenty back, at the North Star," he urged inconsistent.
"If it hadn't been for that damned Big Tent----" and he flopped with a
dismal grunt.

By this time, all the while conscious of his devouring eyes, I had changed
my clothing and now I stood equipped cap-a-pie, with my hat clapped at an
angle, and my pantaloons in my boots, and my red silk handkerchief
tastefully knotted at my throat, and my six-shooter slung; and I could
scarcely deny that in my own eyes, and in his, I trusted, I was a pretty
figure of a Westerner who would win the approval, as seemed to me, of My
Lady in Black or of any other lady.

His reflection upon the Big Tent, however, was the fly in my ointment.
Therefore, preening and adjusting with assumed carelessness I queried, in
real concern:

"What about the Big Tent? Where is it? Isn't it respectable?"

"Resp