In case of difficulty, a determined push would
separate the rivermen from the gamblers long enough for the latter
to disappear quietly through the small door at the back.
"Satisfied?" inquired the gambler briefly.
"Let her flicker," replied Orde with equal brevity.
A gasp of anticipation went up. Quite coolly the gambler made his
passes. With equal coolness and not the slightest hesitation, Orde
planted his great red fist on one of the cards.
"That is the jack," he announced, looking the gambler in the eye.
"Oh, is it?" sneered the dealer. "Well, turn it over and let's
see."
"No!" roared Orde. "YOU TURN OVER THE OTHER TWO!"
A low oath broke from the gambler, and his face contorted in a
spasm. The barkeepers slid out from behind the bar. For a moment
the situation was tense and threatening. The dealer with a sweeping
glance again searched the faces of those before him. In that
moment, probably, he made up his mind that an open scandal must be
avoided. Force and broken bones, even murder, might be all right
enough under colour of right. If Orde had turned up for a jack the
card on which he now held his fist, and then had attempted to prove
cheating, a cry of robbery and a lively fight would have given
opportunity for making way with the stakes.
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