the faces of the two men faded into smiles.

"Sure thing. That's fair enough," acquiesced the dealer, proceeding to
gather the cards from the board. Slowly and deliberately he counted;
"fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two," he finished. "Here, captain, count them
yourself." He handed them to the youth, who mechanically ran them
through.

"They are all here," he admitted.

"Now, that is funny," smiled the stakeholder, "because last deal I
dropped several cards onto the floor. This gentleman saw me do it."

He nodded toward the elderly gentleman, who was now keenly interested,
and reached under the table.

"See--here they are. And, by the way, the nine and ten of hearts are
among them. And now, you cheap crooks," he added as he flung a handful
of bills onto the board, "take your money and beat it!"

The two men opposite looked for an instant into the narrowing gray
eyes, noted a certain tightening of the square jaw and the clenching of
a pair of very capable fists, and tarried not upon further orders.
Sweeping the money into their pockets they quit the compartment,
casting venomous back glances toward the young man whose lips could
smile while his eyes threatened.

"Here is yours, kid. And let me put you wise to something. The first
thing you do when you strike Chicago, buy a ticket to South Bend. They
are waiting for you in the wicked town--they can see you coming. The
next ones will spring a real live game, green goods, or wire tapping.
They will roll you before you can locate a rescue mission. About the
only form of vice they will give you time to investigate will be what
the taxi boy does to you.

"The cold-deck stunt you just fell for, sonny, is so old it totters. It
is the identical trick that started the coolness between Brutus and
Julius Caesar."

CHAPTER VII

THE WRECK

The early darkness of late autumn settled over the flat country. Tiny
lights twinkled from distant farmhouses as the Limited plowed through
the night.

The athletic young man continued to stare moodily out of the window.

The black expanse of country became more thickly studded with lights.
They flashed in the foreground in regular constellations as the train
whizzed with undiminished speed past tall block towers and tiny
suburban stations.

Long parallel rows, narrowing to a point under a distant hazy nimbus,
marked the course of the outreaching arteries of a great city. Warning
bells clanged peremptorily at the lowered gates