of crushed bills, and a legal paper of some kind, the exact nature
of which I could not determine. I leaned forward, but could only
perceive that it bore the official stamp of some recording office--a
deed, perhaps, to some of the remaining acres of Beaucaire. It was
evident that a fortune already rested on that table, awaiting the flip
of a card. The silence, the breathless attention, convinced me that
the crisis had been reached--it was the Judge's move; he must cover the
last bet, or throw down his hand a loser.

Perspiration beaded his forehead, and he crunched the cards savagely in
his hands. His glance swept past the crowd, as though he saw nothing
of their faces.

"Another drink, Sam," he called, the voice trembling. He tossed down
the glass of liquor as though it were so much water, but made no other
effort to speak. You could hear the strained breathing of the men.

"Well," said Kirby sneeringly, his cold gaze surveying his motionless
opponent. "You seem to be taking your time. Do you cover my bet?"

Someone laughed nervously, and a voice sang out over my shoulder, "You
might as well go the whole hog, Judge. The niggers won't be no good
without the land ter work 'em on. Fling 'em into the pot---they're as
good as money."

Beaucaire looked up, red-eyed, into the impassive countenance opposite.
His lips twitched, yet managed to make words issue between them.

"How about that, Kirby?" he asked hoarsely. "Will you accept a bill of
sale?"

Kirby grinned, shuffling his hand carelessly.

"Why not? 'twon't be the first time I've played for niggers. They are
worth so much gold down the river. What have you got?"

"I can't tell that offhand," sullenly. "About twenty field hands."

"And house servants?"

"Three or four."

The gambler's lips set more tightly, a dull gleam creeping into his
eyes.

"See here, Beaucaire," he hissed sharply. "This is my game and I play
square and never squeal. I know about what you've got, for I've looked
them over; thought we might get down to this sometime. I can make a
pretty fair guess as to what your niggers are worth. That's why I just
raised you ten thousand, and put up the money. Now, if you think this
is a bluff, call me."

"What do you mean?"

"That I will accept your niggers as covering my bet."

"The field hands?"

Kirby smiled broadly.

"The whole bunch--field hands and house servants. Most of them are
old; I doubt if all together they