, and set
down to the faro table and began to play. I guess I was the only one
who noticed him, and at first, I couldn't make him out, but after a
bit, I remembered him as 'Unlucky Pete.' That man had a history. When
I first saw him, some eight or ten years before that night, he had
just come west with his wife, a pretty little woman, and had a good
team of horses and a new wagon. He was a reg'lar border character, and
whenever a new country was opened up for settlement, him and his wife
was the first on the ground, ready to make a run to secure a home.
Pete was prosperous, till one night, in a quarrel over a game of
cards, he killed his man, and from that time his luck changed. He
secured one or two good claims, but lost title to them; he lost his
horses, and as fast as he bought other horses, they died or was
stolen, and everything went against him. He wandered from one country
to another, but bad luck met him at every turn. The last I seen him
was some two years before; then him and his wife and two or three
babies was goin' over the country in an old, broken-down wagon. The
wheels was held together with wire and ropes, and the canvas top was
in rags and tatters; the horses was the poorest, skinniest creatures
you ever see, and him and his wife looked off the same piece.

"Well, somehow or 'nuther, I knew him that night, though he looked
harder than ever, and had an old slouched hat down over his face. He
looked like a man that was pushed pretty close to the wall, and had
got down to his last nickel. Well, he set down there to the table, and
threw a silver dollar on the high card; then pulled that old hat down
clean over his eyes, and never spoke, or looked one way or another.
The high card won, and the dealer paid the bet, and pushed the money
over to Pete, but he never stirred.

"Well, that high card kep' a winnin' till there was a big pile of
money there, but Pete, he never stirred, no more'n a stone. The
dealer, he got mad and begun to swear, but Pete didn't move.

"'Somebody wake that fool up,' says he, with an oath.

"A fellow sittin' next to Pete shook him, and then tore off his hat.
Well, boys, I'll never forget that sight, it makes me sort o' shiver
now, when I think of it; there set a dead man at the table before that
pile of gold.

"The dealer started to rake in that pile o' money, but about a dozen
revolvers was p'inted at him, and he decided not to be in too big a
hurry about it.

"'What's the us