But I guess you seen that ?" He settled down easily in his chair just as Sally resumed her place opposite Bard.
"Steve," she said, with a quiet venom, "that bluff of his has been as good as four-of-a-kind with you for a long time.

I never seen you make any play at Butch." He returned amiably: "Like to sit here and have a nice social chat, Sally, but I got to be gettin' back to the ranch, and in the meantime, I'm sure hungry." At the reminder of business a green light came in the fine blue eyes of Sally.

They were her only really fine features, for the nose tilted an engaging trifle, the mouth was a little too generous, the chin so strong that it gave, in moments of passivity, an air of sternness to her face.
That sternness was exaggerated as she rose, keeping her glare fixed upon Nash; a thing impossible for him to bear, so he lowered his eyes and engaged in rolling a cigarette.

She turned back toward Bard.
"Sorry I got to go--before I finished eating--but business is business." "And sometimes," suggested Bard, "a bore." It was an excellent opening for a quarrel, but Nash was remembering religiously a certain thousand dollars, and also a gesture of William Drew when he seemed to be breaking an imaginary twig.

So he merely lighted his cigarette and seemed to have heard nothing.
"The whole town," he remarked casually, "seems scared stiff by this Butch; but of course he ain't comin' back to-night." "I suppose," said the tenderfoot, after a cold pause, "that he will not." But the coldness reacted like the most genial warmth upon Nash.