he dealer or the hawk-eyed lookout was
more intently absorbed in the game. He knew every card that had been
played and he bet where the odds were best. Every so often a long,
yellow hand reached past him and laid a bet by his stake. It was the
hand of a Chinaman, those most passionate of faro players, and at such
times, seeing it follow his luck, the face of Rimrock lightened up with
the semblance of a smile. He called the last turn and they paused for
the drinks, while the dealer mopped his brow.

"Where's Ike?" he demanded. "Well, somebody call him--he's hiding out,
asleep, upstairs."

"Yes, wake him up!" shouted Rimrock boastfully. "Tell him Rimrock
Jones is here."

"Aw, pull out, you sucker!" blared L. W. in his ear, but Rimrock only
shoved out his bets.

"Ten on the ace," droned the anxious dealer, "the jack is coppered.
All down?"

He held up his hand and as the betting ceased he slowly pushed out the
two cards.

"Tray loses, ace wins!" he announced and Rimrock won again.

Then he straightened up purposefully and looked about as he sorted his
winnings into piles.

"The whole works on the queen," he said to the dealer and a hush fell
upon the crowd.

"Where's Ike?" shrilled the dealer, but the boss was not to be found
and he dealt, unwillingly, for a queen. But the fear was on him and
his thin hands trembled; for Ike Bray was not the type of your
frozen-faced gambler--he expected his dealers to win. The dealer
shoved them out, and an oath slipped past his lips.

"Queen wins," he quavered, "the bank is broke." And he turned the box
on its side.

A shout went up--the glad yell of the multitude--and Rimrock rose up
grinning.

"Who said to pull out?" he demanded arrogantly, looking about for the
glowering L. W. "Huh, huh!" he chuckled, "quit your luck when you're
winning? Quit your luck and your luck will quit you--the drinks for
the house, barkeep!"

He was standing at the bar, stuffing money into his pockets, when Ike
Bray, the proprietor, appeared. Rimrock turned, all smiles, as he
heard his voice on the stairs and lolled back against the bar. More
than once in the past Bray had taken his roll but now it was his turn
to laugh.

"Lemme see," he remarked as he felt Bray's eyes upon him, "I wonder how
much I win."

He drew out the bills from his faded overalls and began laboriously to
count them out into his hat.

Ike Bray stopped and looked at him, a little, twisted man with his ha