Then Hampton's turn came. Without drawing, his cards yet
lying face downward before him on the board, his calm features as
immovable as the Sphinx, he quietly pushed his whole accumulated pile
to the centre, named the sum, and leaned back in his chair, his eyes
cold, impassive. Hawes threw down his hand, wiping his streaming face
with his handkerchief; Willis counted his remaining roll, hesitated,
looked again at the faces of his cards, flung aside two, drawing to
fill, and called loudly for a show-down, his eyes protruding. Slavin,
cursing fiercely under his red beard, having drawn one card, his
perplexed face instantly brightening as he glanced at it, went back
into his hip pocket for every cent he had, and added his profane demand
for a chance at the money.

A fortune rested on the table, a fortune the ownership of which was to
be decided in a single moment, and by the movement of a hand. The
crowd swayed eagerly forward, their heads craned over to see more
clearly, their breathing hushed. Willis was gasping, his whole body
quivering; Slavin was watching Hampton's hands as a cat does a mouse,
his thick lips parted, his fingers twitching nervously. The latter
smiled grimly, his motions deliberate, his eyes never wavering.
Slowly, one by one, he turned up his cards, never even deigning to
glance downward, his entire manner that of unstudied indifference.
One--two--three. Willis uttered a snarl like a stricken wild beast,
and sank back in his chair, his eyes closed, his cheeks ghastly. Four.
Slavin brought down his great clenched fist with a crash on the table,
a string of oaths bursting unrestrained from his lips. Five. Hampton,
never stirring a muscle, sat there like a statue, watching. His right
hand kept hidden beneath the table, with his left he quietly drew in
the stack of bills and coin, pushing the stuff heedlessly into the side
pocket of his coat, his gaze never once wandering from those stricken
faces fronting him. Then he softly pushed back his chair and stood
erect. Willis never moved, but Slavin rose unsteadily to his feet,
gripping the table fiercely with both hands.

"Gentlemen," said Hampton, gravely, his clear voice sounding like the
sudden peal of a bell, "I can only thank you for your courtesy in this
matter, and bid you all good-night. However, before I go it may be of
some interest for me to say that I have played my last game."

Somebody laughed sarcastically, a harsh, hateful lau