his love, was the strange and magnificent gamble. He could not resist
it.

Speechless, with a motion of his hand, he signified his willingness.

"Blicky, shuffle the cards," boomed Gulden.

Blicky did so and dropped the deck with a slap in the middle of the
table.

"Cut!" called Gulden.

Kells's shaking hand crept toward the deck.

Jim Cleve suddenly appeared to regain power of speech and motion.
"Don't, Kells, don't!" he cried, piercingly, as he leaped forward.

But neither Kells nor the others heard him, or even saw his movement.

Kells cut the deck. He held up his card. It was the king of hearts. What
a transformation! His face might have been that of a corpse suddenly
revivified with glorious, leaping life.

"Only an ace can beat thet!" muttered Jesse Smith into the silence.

Gulden reached for the deck as if he knew every card left was an ace.
His cavernous eyes gloated over Kells. He cut, and before he looked
himself he let Kells see the card.

"You can't beat my streak!" he boomed.

Then he threw the card upon the table. It was the ace of spades.

Kells seemed to shrivel, to totter, to sink. Jim Cleve went quickly to
him, held to him.

"Kells, go say good--by to your girl!" boomed Gulden. "I'll want her
pretty soon.... Come on, you Beady and Braverman. Here's your chance to
get even."

Gulden resumed his seat, and the two bandits invited to play were eager
to comply, while the others pressed close once more.

Jim Cleve led the dazed Kells toward the door into Joan's cabin. For
Joan just then all seemed to be dark.

When she recovered she was lying on the bed and Jim was bending over
her. He looked frantic with grief and desperation and fear.

"Jim! Jim!" she moaned, grasping his hands. He helped her to sit up.
Then she saw Kells standing there. He looked abject, stupid, drunk. Yet
evidently he had begun to comprehend the meaning of his deed.

"Kells," began Cleve, in low, hoarse tones, as he stepped forward with a
gun. "I'm going to kill you--and Joan--and myself!"

Kells stared at Cleve. "Go ahead. Kill me. And kill the girl, too.
That'll be better for her now. But why kill yourself?"

"I love her. She's my wife!"

The deadness about Kells suddenly changed. Joan flung herself before
him.

"Kells--listen," she whispered in swift, broken passion. "Jim Cleve
was--my sweetheart--back in Hoadley. We quarreled. I taunted him. I said
he hadn't nerve enough--even to be bad. He left me--bitte