But McNeill's could not
afford to be shown up before thirty interested rivermen as running
an open-and-shut brace-game. However, the gambler made a desperate
try at what he must have known was a very forlorn hope.
"That isn't the way this game is played," said he. "Show up your
jack."
"It's the way I play it," replied Orde sternly. "These gentlemen
heard the bet." He reached over and dexterously flipped over the
other two cards. "You see, neither of these is the jack; this must
be."
"You win," assented the gambler, after a pause.
Orde, his fist still on the third card, began pocketing the stakes
with the other hand. The gambler reached, palm up, across the
table.
"Give me the other card," said he.
Orde picked it up, laughing. For a moment he seemed to hesitate,
holding the bit of pasteboard tantalisingly outstretched, as though
he were going to turn also this one face up. Then, quite
deliberately he looked to right and to left where the fighters
awaited their signal, laughed again, and handed the card to the
gambler.
At once pandemonium broke loose. The rivermen of Orde's party
fairly shouted with joy over the unexpected trick; the employees of
the resort whispered apart; the gambler explained, low-voiced and
angry, his reasons for not putting up a fight for so rich a stake.
Pages:
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107