dred or a hundred and fifty. The men exchanged questioning
looks, and at that moment Lizzie entered with a pack of cards, and
Thigh said--

"I'll play you at ecarte--the best out of seven games."

Mike realized at once the situation, and he hoped Frank would not
betray him. He saw that Thigh had been drinking. "God has given him
into my hands," he thought; and it was agreed that they should play
the best out of seven games for twenty-five pounds, and that the
loser should have the right to call for a return match. Mike knew
nothing of his opponent's play, but he did not for a moment suspect
him of superior skill. Such a thing could hardly be, and he decided
he would allow him to win the first games, watching carefully the
while, so that he might study his combinations and plans, and learn
in what measure he might pack and "bridge" the cards. There is much
in a shuffle, and already Mike believed him to be no more than an
ordinary club player, capable of winning a few sovereigns from a
young man fresh from the university; and although the cards Mike held
did not warrant such a course, he played without proposing, and when
he lost the trick he scanned his opponent's face, and seeing it
brighten, he knew the ruse had succeeded. But luck seemed to run
inexplicably against him, and he was defeated. In the return match he
met with similar luck, and rose from the table, having lost fifty
pounds. Mike wrote a second I O U for twenty-five pounds, to be paid
out of the hundred and fifty pounds which he had agreed in writing to
accept for the book before sitting down to play. Then he protested
vehemently against his luck, and so well did he act his part, that
even if Thigh had not drunk another glass of whiskey-and-water he
would not have perceived that Mike was simulating an excitement which
he did not feel.

"I'll play you for a hundred pounds--the best out of seven games;
damn the cards! I can beat you no matter how they run!"

"Very well, I don't mind, anything to oblige a friend."

Lizzie besought Mike not to play again, and she nearly upset the
apple-cart by angrily telling Thigh she did not wish her house to be
turned into a gambling hell. Thigh rose from the table, but Frank
apologized for his wife, and begged of him to sit down. The incident
was not without a good effect, for it removed Thigh's suspicions, if
he had any, and convinced him that he was "in for a real good thing."
He laid on the table a cheque, signed B