"Sure thing," said the dealer equably.

"All right, then. One bad turn deserves another. But--plenty
_cuidado!_ If any card but the eight of hearts turns up, protect
yourself, or somebody's widow'll be in a position to collect life
insurance, and I ain't married! Turn her over." He leaned lightly on
the table with both hands. Their eyes met in a level gaze.

"Let her zip!" said the Eminent Person. Without hesitation he dropped
the card over. No slightest motion from either man, no relaxing of
those interlocked eyes. A catching of breaths--

"The eight of hearts!" This in concert by the quartette of
undisinterested witnesses.

The two Principals looked down, then. That the Eminent Person's free
hand had remained passive throughout bore eloquent testimony to nerve
and integrity alike. Nevertheless, he now ran that hand slowly through
his hair and wiped his forehead. "That was one long five seconds--most
a week, I guess. Did you ever see such a plumb dam-fool break in your
whole life?" he said, appealingly, to the crowd.

"I guess," said Steve sagely, pushing the eight-spot in with his other
cards--"I guess if you'd separated from a thousand big round dollars
to draw a card and then got it turned over, _you_ wouldn't have cared
a whoop if your left eye was out, either. It _is_ warm, ain't it?" He
sat down with a sigh of relief.

The Stockman bunched his cards idly and tapped the table with them.