had taught Desmond a great many tricks, and
the lad's natural discernment and watchfulness had prepared him for the
hand when the great trick was to be sprung, and unwatched he worked a
bigger trick. He did not know what the hand was he was pitted against,
but he had been let in to gamblers' tricks, that is, "snide" gamblers.
These fellows in making a false deal do not win on the highest hands,
for they always know the hand against them. The fellow who was seeking
to rob Desmond thought he knew our hero's hand, but it was right there
he was fooled. Our hero had worked his own trick, as stated--he stole a
hand so deftly that the unwatchful robbers did not see him do it, and it
was there he had them. He was really taking a slight chance, but only a
slight one, and what followed? Well, it was a case of the biter bitten,
and when Desmond exposed his hand there came a look upon the sharp's
face that can never be described, but which might be photographed with a
snap-shot machine.

There fell a dead stillness in that car for a few seconds, and then the
defeated sharp said:

"Aha! you are a cheat."

"Am I?"

Desmond was perfectly cool.

"Yes, you are, and that money is mine."

"Is it?"

"Oh, see here, young fellow, don't you attempt to bluff me, or I'll mark
you."

As intimated, there had come a great change over Desmond. He did not
look like and he certainly did not act like the same person who a little
time previously had been learning gambling tricks from the sharp. The
gambler attempted to rake the money from the seat, and it was at that
moment the real fun commenced.

"You miserable rascal," cried Desmond, "lay a finger on a bill on that
seat and I'll pin your hand to the car seat."

Well, there was a scene of consternation around there just at that
instant, and our hero said:

"I've been carrying out your programme, amusing myself with a sneak
thief, and now, Mr. Senator's Son, you have evidence that Yorkers do
know a thing or two, and you get yourself together and get out of this
car and off the train at the next station, or I'll make a horse-fly net
of you. Is that plain English? Take your own money, I don't need it. You
are under cover, but let me give you a pointer--you play the senator's
son too well altogether to make a success of it."

The group of gamblers stared in silence. They did not dare make a
hostile move; there was something about Desmond in his transformed
appearance that froze them--in