Irish interpreted it as encouragement to sail in and clean up the bunch.
There was money enough in sight to build that fence when he sat down.
Irish pulled his hat farther over his eyebrows, rolled and lighted a cigarette while he waited for that particular jackpot to be taken, and covertly sized up the players.
Every one of them was strange to him.

But then, the town was full of strangers since Florence Grace and her Syndicate began to reap a harvest off the open country, so Irish merely studied the faces casually, as a matter of habit They were nesters, of course--real or prospective.

They seemed to have plenty of money--and it was eminently fitting that the Happy Family's fence should be built with nester money.
Irish had in his pockets exactly eighteen dollars and fifty-cents.

He bought eighteen dollars' worth of chips and began to play.

Privately he preferred stud poker to draw, but he was not going to propose a change; he felt perfectly qualified to beat any three pilgrims that ever came West.
Four hands he played and lost four dollars.