Red.

"But you don't know anything about him, Will," she continued,
putting the weak side of her desire forward, in order to rest more
securely if that stood the test.

"No, I don't," agreed Red. "But here's the way I feel about that:
I want to be doing something according to my size; besides that, it
would be a good thing for this place if some kind of a live doings
was to start here. All right, that's my side of it. Now, as far
as not knowing that young feller's concerned, I might think I knew
him from cyclone-cellar to roof-tree, and he might do me to a
crowded house. My idea is that life's a good deal like faro--you
know how that is."

"I remember about his not letting the people go, but I'm afraid I
don't know my Bible as well as I ought to, Will," apologised Miss
Mattie, rather astonished at his allusion.

"Let the people go? Bible?" cried Red, laying down his knife and
fork, still more astonished at her allusion. "Will you kindly tell
me what that has to do with faro-bank? Girl, one of us is full of
ghost songs, and far, far off the reservation. What in the name of
Brigham Young's off-ox are you talking about?"

"Why, you spoke of Pharaoh, Will, and I can remember about his
holding the children of Israel captive, and the plagues, but I
really don't see just how it applies."

"Oh!" said Red, as a great light broke upon him. "Oh, I see what
you're thinking about. The old boy who corralled the Jews, and
made 'em work for the first and last time in their history, and
they filled him full of fleas, and darkness, and all kinds of
unpleasant experiences to break even? Well, I was not talking
about him at all. My faro is a game played with a lay-out and a
pack of cards and a little tin box that you ought to look at
carefully before you put any money on the board, to see that it
ain't arranged for dealing seconds; and there's a lookout and a
case keeper and--well, I don't believe I could tell you just how it
works, but some day I'll make a layout and we'll have some fun.
It's a bully game, but I say, it's a great deal like life--the
splits go to the dealer; that is to say, that if the king comes out
to win and lose at the same time, you lose anyhow, see?"

"No," said Miss Mattie, truthfully.

Red thrust his fingers through his hair and sighed. "I'm afraid I
know too much about it to explain it clearly," he replied. "But
what I mean is this: some people try to play system at faro, and
they last