two men each
day. Drunk or dead. The place is wild--far off. There's gold--hundreds
of thousands of dollars in gold dumped off the trains. Benton has had
one payday. That day was the sight of my life!... Then... there are
women."

"I saw a few in the dance-hall," replied Neale.

"Then you haven't looked in at Stanton's?"

"Who's he?"

"Stanton is not a man," replied Hough.

Neale glanced inquiringly over his glass.

"Beauty Stanton, they call her," went on Hough. "I saw her in New
Orleans years ago when she was a very young woman--notorious then. She
had the beauty and she led the life... did Beauty Stanton."

Neale made no comment, and Hough, turning to pay for the drinks, was
accosted by several men. They wanted to play poker.

"Gentlemen, I hate to take your money," he said. "But I never refuse to
sit in a game. Neale, will you join us?"

They found a table just vacated. Neale took two of the three strangers
to be prosperous merchants or ranchers from the Missouri country. The
third was a gambler by profession. Neale found himself in unusually
sharp company. He did not have a great deal of money. So in order to
keep clear-headed he did not drink. And he began to win, not by reason
of excellent judgment, but because he was lucky. He had good cards all
the time, and part of the time very strong ones. It struck him presently
that these remarkable hands came during Hough's deal, and he wondered if
the gambler was deliberately manipulating the cards to his advantage. At
any rate, he won hundreds of dollars.

"Mr. Neale, do you always hold such cards?" asked one of the men.

"Why, sure," replied Neale. He could not help being excited and elated.

"Well, he can't be beat," said the other.

"Lucky at cards, unlucky in love," remarked the third of the trio. "I
pass."

Hough was looking straight at Neale when this last remark was made.
And Neale suddenly lost his smile, his flush. The gambler dropped his
glance.

"Play the game and don't get personal in your remarks," he said. "This
is poker."

Neale continued to win, but his excitement did not return, nor his
elation. A random word from a strange man had power to sting him.
Unlucky in love! Alas! What was luck, gold--anything to him any more!

By the time the game was ended Neale felt a friendly interest in Hough
that was difficult to define or explain; and the conviction gained upon
him that the gambler had deliberately dealt him those remarkable cards.