e on
Humble. He thought it would be easy money if he taught Lee Lung how
to play poker. He bothered Lee's life out of him for several days, and
finally the Chinaman consented to learn the great American game."

Blake played a six and the sheriff scored two by pairing, whereupon his
opponent made it threes for six, and took a point for the last card.

"As I was saying, Humble wanted the cook to learn poker. Lee's face was
as blank as a cow's, and Humble had to explain everything several times
before the cook seemed to understand what he was driving at. Anybody would
have thought he had been brought up in a monastery and that he didn't know
a card from an army mule."

Blake pegged his seven points and picked up his cards without breaking
the story.

"But Lee had awful luck, and in half an hour he owned half of Humble's
next month's pay. Now, every time he gets a chance he shows Humble the
cards and asks for a game. 'Nicee game, ploker, nicee game,' he'll say.
What Humble says is pertinent, profane and permeating. Then the boys guy
him to a finish. He'll be wanting to teach Lee how to play fan-tan some
day, so the boys say. Lee must have graduated in poker before Humble
ever heard of the game."

Shields laughed heartily and swiftly ran over his cards.

"Fifteen two, four, six, a pair is eight, and a double run of three is
fourteen. Real good," he said as he pegged. "Passed the crack that time.
What have you got?"

The foreman put his cards down, found three sixes and then turned the crib
face up. "Pair of tens and His Highness," he grumbled. "Only three in that
crib!"

"That's what you get for cutting a three," laughed the sheriff.

The game continued until the striking of the clock startled the guest.

"Midnight!" he cried. "Thirty miles before I get to bed--no, no, I can't
stay with you to-night --much obliged, all the same."

He clapped his sombrero on his head and started for the door: "Well,
better luck next time, Jim--three twenty-four hands shore did make a
difference. Right where they were needed, too. So long."

"Sorry you won't stay, Tom," called his friend from the door as the
foreman mounted. "You might just as well, you know."

"I'm sorry, too, but I've got to be on hand to-morrow--anyway, it's bright
moonlight--so long!" he cried as he cantered away.

"Hey, Tom!" cried the sheriff, leaping from the porch and running to the
gate. "Tom!"

"Hullo, what is it?" asked the foreman, drawing rein an