“Good evening, boys,” she said.  “I want to lock the doors, and guess you don’t know how late it is.”

Wilkinson, the man she distrusted, took out his watch.  He had a horse ranch some distance off, and the farmers called him a sport.  As a matter of fact, he was a successful petty gambler, but generally lost his winnings by speculating in real-estate and wheat.

“It’s surely late, Mrs. Charnock,” he agreed.  “Still, I dare say you can give us a quarter of an hour.”

“Five minutes,” Sadie answered.  “You can cut the game you’re playing when you like.  I’m tired, but I’ll wait.”

Wilkinson looked at Charnock, but stopped arranging his cards.  “Well, I’m ready to quit.  Bob’s made a scoop the last few deals, and I reckon I’ve not much chance of getting my money back.”

“Go ’way, Sadie; go ’way right now!” Charnock interrupted.  “You gotta put up a fair game, and I can’t stop when I’ve all the boys’ dollars in my pocket.”

Sadie was sometimes tactful, but her anger was quick, and she disliked to hear her husband use Western idioms.  Moreover she expected him to be polite.

“Well,” she said, “I guess that’s a change; your dollars are generally in their wallets.  But this game has to stop.”

Mossup, the man she did not like, turned in his chair.  He was not sober and his manners were not polished at the best of times.  He sold small tools and hardware for a Winnipeg wholesale firm.

“Say, you might call a bell-boy.  That whisky’s rank; I want a different drink.”

Charnock got up with an awkward movement, but Sadie did not want his help.

“Drinks are served in the bar and the bar is shut,” she said.

“I’m stopping here; I hired this room, and as long as I pay it’s mine.  We’re not in Manitoba, and I guess the law—­”

Sadie silenced him imperiously.  She understood his reference to Manitoba, where regulations dealing with liquor are strictly enforced.

“I make the law at Keller’s, and this hotel is not a gambling saloon.  Mr. Wilkinson, cork that bottle and put it on the shelf.”

As Wilkinson obeyed, Mossup put his hand on his arm to hold him back, but Charnock interfered: 

“You sit down right now.  Understand, everybody, what Mrs. Charnock says goes.”

“Certainly,” Wilkinson agreed.  “Get off to bed Mossup; you’ll have a swelled head all right to-morrow, as it is.  I’ll put out the light, Mrs. Charnock; guess I’ll do it better than Bob.”

“Think I can’t put out a common old lamp?” Charnock inquired.  “Destroy the blamed thing ’fore I let it beat me.”

“You’re not going to try,” said Wilkinson, who hustled him and Mossup out of the room and then held the door open for Sadie.