I guess," he went on while he pulled out a small roll of bills and licked his finger preparatory to counting them, "I might better have stuck to running my horses.

Poker's sure a fright.

The way it can eat into a man's pocket--" "Went and lost all that money on poker, did ye ?" Pop's voice was shrill.
"After me tellin' yuh how to git it--and showin' yuh how yuh could beat Boise--" the old man's rage choked him.

He thrust his face close to Bud's and glared venomously.
"Yes, and just to show you I appreciate it, I'm going to give you what's left after I've counted off enough to see me through to Spokane.

I feel sick, Pop.