“Silver Phil, we learns later—­an’ it shore jestifies Peets in his theories about him bein’ a degen’rate—­has been in plenty of blood.  But allers like a cat; savage, gore-thirsty, yet shy, prideless, an’ ready to fly.  It seems he begins to be homicidal in a humble way by downin’ a trooper over near Fort Cummings.  That’s four years before he visits us.  He’s been blazin’ away intermittent ever since, and allers crooel, crafty an’ safe.  It’s got to be a shore thing or Silver Phil quits an’ goes into the water like a mink.

“This yere ondersized miscreant ain’t ha’nted about Wolfville more’n four days before he shows how onnecessary he is to our success.  Which he works a ha’r copper on Cherokee Hall.  What’s a ha’r copper?  I’ll onfold, short and terse, what Silver Phil does, an’ then you saveys.  Cherokee’s dealin’ his game—­farobank she is; an’ if all them national banks conducts themse’fs as squar’ as that enterprise of Cherokee’s, the fields of finance would be as safely honest as a church.  Cherokee’s turnin’ his game one evenin’; Faro Nell on the lookout stool where she belongs.  Silver Phil drifts up to the lay-out, an’ camps over back of the king-end.  He gets chips, an’ goes to takin’ chances alternate on the king, queen, jack, ten; all side an’ side they be.  Cherokee bein’ squar’ himse’f ain’t over-prone to expect a devious play in others.  He don’t notice this Silver Phil none speshul, an’ shoves the kyards.

“Silver Phil wins three or four bets; it’s Nell that catches on to his racket, an’ signs up to Cherokee onder the table with her little foot.  One glance an’ Cherokee is loaded with information.  This Silver Phil, it seems, in a sperit of avarice, equips himse’f with a copper—­little wooden checker, is what this copper is—­one he’s done filched from Cherokee the day prior.  He’s fastened a long black hoss-ha’r to it, an’ he ties the other end of the hoss-ha’r to his belt in front.  This ha’r is long enough as he’s planted at the table that a-way, so it reaches nice to them four nearest kyards,—­the king, queen, jack, ten.  An’ said ha’r is plumb invisible except to eyes as sharp as Faro Nell’s.  The deceitful Silver Phil will have a stack on one of ’em, coppered with this yere ha’r copper.  He watches the box.  As the turns is made, if the kyards come his way, well an’ good.  Silver Phil does nothin’ but garners in results.  When the kyards start to show ag’in him, however, that’s different.  In sech events Silver Phil draws in his breath, sort o’ takin’ in on the hoss-ha’r, an’ the copper comes off the bet.  When the turn is made, thar’s Silver Phil’s bet—­by virchoo of said fraud—­open an’ triumphant an’ waitin’ to be paid.

“Cherokee gets posted quick an with a look.  As sharp as winkin’ Cherokee has a nine-inch bowie in his hand an’ with one slash cuts the hoss-ha’r clost up by Silver Phil’s belt.