would have won and the thing would
have been ended; had he shaken anything less than a six the spoils
would have been the Mexican's. That which happened was that out of the
gambler's cup Kendric turned another six.

Ruiz Rios's impassive face masked all emotion; Kendric's displayed
frankly his sheer delight. He was playing his game; he was getting his
fun.

"A tie, by thunder!" he cried out in huge enjoyment. "We're getting a
run for our money, Mexico. Shall I shake next?"

"Follow your hand," said Ruiz Rios briefly.

That which followed next would have appeared unbelievable to any who
have not over and over watched the inexplicable happenings of a gaming
table. Kendric made his second throw and lifted his eyebrows
quizzically at the result. He had turned out the deuce, the lowest
number possible. A little eagerly, while men began to mutter in their
excitement, Rios snatched up cup and die and threw. Once already he
had counted ten thousand as good as won; now he made the same mistake.
For the incredible happened and he, too, showed a deuce, making a
second tie.

Ruiz cursed his disgust and hurled the box down. Kendric burst into
booming laughter.

"A game for men to talk about, friend Rios!" he said. And at the
moment he came near feeling a kindly feeling for a man whom he hated
most cordially and with high reason. "Follow your hand."

Rios received the box from a hand offering it and made his third throw
swiftly. The six again.

"Where we began, senor," he said, grown again impassive.

Kendric was all impatient eagerness to make his throw, looking like a
boy chafing at a moment's restraint against his anticipated pleasures.

"A six to beat," he said.

And beat it he did, with the odds all against him. He turned up the
ace and won ten thousand dollars.

In the brief hush which came before the shouts and jabberings of many
voices, Ruiz Rios's companion pulled him sharply by the arm, whispering
quickly. But this time Rios shook his head.

"I am through," he said bluntly. "Another time, maybe."

But the fever, to which he had so eagerly surrendered, was just
gripping Kendric. That he was playing for big stakes was the thing
that counted. That he had won meant less to him than it would have
meant to any other man in the room or any other man who had ever been
in the room or any other man who would ever come into the room. He saw
that Ruiz was through. But, as his dancing eyes sped aroun