." He
slammed the little roll down on the bar. "Come get it, if you want
it." Packard promptly stepped forward, taking the money.

"I figured there was a chance to make ten dollars, easy money, if I
just walked across the street for it," he said, looking pleasantly from
Hodges to Blenham. "Sure, I want it. It's luck-money; didn't you
know? You see, when a man loses anything he loses some of his luck
with it; when another man gets it, he gets the luck along with it.
Thanks, Blenham."

Blenham made no answer. His eyes were bright with anger and yet
troubled with uncertainty. The uncertainty was there to be recognized
by him who looked keenly for it. Blenham did not know just which way
to jump. From that fact Steve drew a deep satisfaction. For there
would have been no reason for indecision if Blenham knew that he had
those other, bigger bank-notes, safe.

At the rear of the long room a man was dealing cards for
seven-and-a-half. As though to demonstrate the truth of his boast
about "luck-money" Steve stepped to the table, the roll of bills in his
hand. He was dealt a card. Without turning it up to look at it he
shoved it under the ten banknotes.

"Standing?" said the dealer.

Steve nodded.

"Playing my luck," he answered.

The dealer turned lack-lustre eyes upon Steve's card, then upon his own
which he turned up. It was the four of clubs.

"I've the hunch that will beat you, pardner," he said listlessly. "But
I'll come again."

He turned another card, a deuce.

"That'll about beat you," he suggested. He leaned forward for Steve's
card. "Unless you've got a seven in the hole."

And a seven it was; the bright red seven of hearts. The dealer paid,
ten dollars to Steve's ten.

"Come again?" he asked.

"Not to-night," returned Packard. "I took just the one flutter to show
Blenham."

He turned and saw that Blenham had already slipped quietly out of the
room. Dan Hodges, his face a fiery red, was just coming back from the
card-room. With him was the big timber boss.

"Tin-horn!" shouted Joe Woods at Packard. "Quitter!"

A quick joy spurted up in Steve Packard's heart; he was right about
Blenham. Blenham, filled with anxiety, had gone already, would be
rushing back to Ranch Number Ten to make sure if the ten thousand
dollars were safe or had been discovered already by the rightful owner.
He had slipped away hurriedly but, after the fashion of a careful,
practical man, had taken time