'What for do you want to bet grub? Why don't you bet
money, so I gets what I wants with it? It's my money when I wins.
Mebby I don't want no grub. Mebby I wants clothes or whiskey. You
ain't no sport, Doc, to tie up a play with a string like that. Gimme
another drink some one, I'm most dyin' for some.'
"The old man 'pears like he's mighty sick that a-way, so thar's
nothin' for it but to give him another hooker, which we does
accordin'.
"'I'm feelin' like I was shot hard by somethin',' he says, 'an' I
don't like for to go home till I'm better, an' scare Sue. I reckon
I'll camp down on this yere monte table for an hour till I comes
'round.'
"So Wilkins curls up on the table, an' no one notices him for about
twenty minutes, when along comes rattlin' up the Lordsburg mail.
"'You win, Wilkins,' says Peets; 'come over to the New York Store
an' cut out your stuff.' "The old man acts like he don't hear, so
Doc shakes him up some. No use, thar ain't no get up in him.
"'Looks like he's gone to sleep for good,' says Doc.
"Then he walks 'round him, shakes him, an' takes a look at his eye,
a-openin' of it with his finger. Finally he stands back, sticks his
thumb in his belt, an' whistles.
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