s of Shuter, and was watching
him as a cat watches a mouse.

The heavy raise caused a slightly startled look to shoot into Harry's
face; but he was now in it to the death and answered, "All right, I'll
take you up; there's my cards" (four aces); "show me yours."

Joe saw a dangerous look leap into Shuter's eyes as Harry leaned
forward, expectantly, to see what cards Shuter held.

Stretching out his hand, as if with the intention of also exposing his
cards, Shuter deftly managed to knock off the table the remainder of
the pack. As he did so he uttered an exclamation, as though his action
had been accidental, and stooping began to gather up the cards; but
while doing so dexterously dropped two of his own cards and replaced
them with two others, thus giving himself a royal flush--a hand
impossible to beat.

Quickly as the trick had been done it was detected by both Harry and
Joe, and the next instant Harry was on his feet, his face convulsed
with anger and his slight frame quivering with excitement.

Shuter also sprang to his feet, and as his thin lips parted into a
forced, uncomprehending smile, Harry struck him with his fist, full in
the face. Before Harry could draw back Shuter had seized him by the
throat, and was fumbling in his pocket for an old sailor's knife
which he was always known to carry; but before he could draw it he was
swung violently off his feet and brought down with a thud on the
table. He was little better than a child in Joe's grasp. The next
instant the place was in an uproar, and a dozen men sprang on Joe; but
it was only after a long struggle that they succeeded in drawing his
terrified victim from his grasp.

As Shuter at last staggered to his feet, his daughter ran to his side.
The sight of the girl made Harry forget his resentment, and he walked
toward her with the intention of apologizing; but the moment her eyes
fell upon him she burst forth furiously, "Get out of this, you little
fool; I am sick of making a fool of you. There's not a man in the tent
but knows how I have been laughing at your attempts at love-making."
Pointing her finger derisively at him she continued ironically, "What
do you think, men, of _that thing_ making love to me?"

All eyes were turned on her unhappy little lover, whose face was now
pitifully white and drawn. The jeers which she expected, to her
surprise did not come, for the little fellow's appreciation of his
trying position was so painfully apparent in his