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CHAPTER XXV
Mr. Ewalt Draws Cards
Tex Ewalt, cow-puncher, prospector, sometimes a rustler, but always a
dude, rode from El Paso in deep disgust at his steady losses at faro
and monte. The pecuniary side of these caused him no worry, for he was
flush. This pleasing opulence was due to his business ability, for he
had recently sold a claim for several thousand dollars. The first
operation was simple, being known in Western phraseology as "jumping";
and the second, somewhat more complicated, was known as "salting."
The first of the money spent went for a complete new outfit, and he
had parted with just three hundred and seventy dollars to feed his
vanity. He desired something contrasty and he procured it. His
sombrero, of gray felt a quarter of an inch thick, flaunted a band of
black leather, on which was conspicuously displayed a solid silver
buckle. His neck was protected by a crimson kerchief of the finest,
heaviest silk. His shirt, in pattern the same as those commonly worn
in the cow country, was of buckskin, soft as a baby's cheek and
impervious to water, and the Angora goatskin chaps, with the long
silken hair worn outside, were as white as snow. Around his waist ran
loosely a broad, black leather belt supporting a heavy black holster,
in which lay its walnut-handled burden, a .44 caliber six-shooter; and
thirty center-fire cartridges peeked from their loops, fifteen on a
side.
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