"'Well, gents,' says Enright at last, settin' down his glass, an'
givin' the poker-table a little tap with his gun, 'yere's the party,
an' the question is now: "What's he got?" Do I hear any remarks?'
"'Bein' in the lines, Mister Pres'dent,' says Boggs, 'of previous
assertion, an' for the purpose of bringin' the question squar'
before this house, I now moves you this yere Yallerhouse party has
the smallpox. I ain't aimin' herein at playin' it low on Tutt, an'
su'gests that the chair, in puttin' the question, also informs the
meetin' as to them wagers; which the money tharof is now in the war-
bags of the barkeep. I believes in givin' every gent all necessary
light wherein to make up his mind; an', as I says, to open the game
all logical, I ag'in moves this Yallerhouse man has the smallpox.'
"'Yo tambien,' yells a Mexican over near the door.
"'Put that Greaser out!' shouts Enright, at the same time bangin'
the table. 'This ain't no international incident at all, an' nothin'
but the clean-strain American wolf is eligible to howl.'
"The Greaser goes out on his saddle-colored head, an' Enright puts
Boggs's motion.
"'Every gent,' says Enright, 'in favor of this Yallerhouse man
havin' the smallpox, say "Aye"; contrary "No.
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