ound or two before I close
up?" He gathered the three cards. "You see the queen--my unlucky queen of
hearts. Here she is." He stowed the card between thumb and finger. "Here
are the other two." He held them up in his left hand--the eight of clubs,
the eight of spades. He transferred them--with his rapid motion he strewed
the three. "Choose the queen. I put the game to you fair and square. There
are the cards. Maybe you can read their backs. That's your privilege." He
fixed his eyes upon the teamster. "You, sir; where's your money, half of
which was mine?" He glanced at Jim. "And you, sir? You'll follow your
luck?" Lastly he surveyed me with a flash of steely bravado. "And you,
young gentleman. You came in before. I dare you."

The bent corner was more pronounced than ever, as if aggravated by the
manipulations. It could not possibly be mistaken by the knowing. And a
sudden shame possessed me--a glut of this crafty advantage to which I was
stooping; an advantage gained not through my own wit, either, but through
the dishonorable trick of another.

"There's your half from me, if you want it," said Jim, slapping down two
dollars. "This is my night to howl."

The teamster backed him.

"I'm on the same card," said he.

And not to be outdone--urged, I thought, by a pluck at my sleeve--I boldly
followed with my own two dollars, reasoning that I was warranted in
partially recouping, for Benton owed me much.

The gambler laughed shortly. His gaze, cool and impertinent, enveloped
our front. He leaned back, defiant.

"Give me a chance, gentlemen. I shall not proceed with the play for that
picayune sum before me. This is my last deal and I've been loser. It's
make or break. Who else will back that gentleman's luck? I've placed the
cards the best I know how. But six or eight dollars is no money to me. It
doesn't pay for floor space. Is nobody else in? What? Come, come; let's
have some sport. I dare you. This time is my revenge or your good fortune.
Play up, gentlemen. Don't be crabbers." He smiled sarcastically; his words
stung. "This isn't pussy-in-a-corner. It's a game of wits. You wouldn't
bet unless you felt cock-sure of winning. I'll give you one minute,
gentlemen, before calling all bets off unless you make the pot worth
while."

The threat had effect. Nobody wished to let the marked card get away. That
was not human nature. Bets rained in upon the table--bank notes, silver
half dollars, the rarer dollar coins, and th