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The Desire of the Moth; and the Come On by Eugene Manlove Rhodes
page 94 of 164 (57%)
gambler once. The best I get is, 'Clear out, you blamed sucker. Come
back when you grow a new fleece!' and when I get home the wind moans
down the chimney, 'O-o-o-gh-h! wha-a-t have you do-o-one with your
summer's w-a-A-a-ges!"

"Aw, sit down--you're delayin' the game," said the Stockman. The
Banker shoved over three stacks of patriotically assorted colors and
made a memorandum. The Five howled mockery and derision, the cards
danced and beckoned luringly in the mellow lamplight, the Judge pulled
his coat-tail, the Major Premise tugged. Steve sat down, pulling his
sombrero over his eyes.

"He that runneth after fools shall have property enough," he quoted
inaccurately. "I'll have some of your black hides on the fence by
morning."

The cards running to him, it was not long before Steve doubled his
"come-in" several times on quite ordinary hands, largely because his
capital was so small that he could not be bluffed out. The betting was
fierce and furious. Steve, "on velvet," played brilliantly. But he was
in fast company--too fast for his modest means. The Transient seemed
to have a bottomless purse. The Stockman had cattle on a thousand
hills, the Merchant habitually sold goods at cost.

As for the Judge--his fine Italian hand was distinctly traceable
in the frenzied replies to frenzied attacks upon certain frenzied
financial transactions of his chief, a frenzied but by no means
verdant copper magnate, to whom he, the Judge, was Procureur-General,
adviser legal and otherwise. The Judge took no thought for the morrow,
unless his frequently expressed resolve not to go home till that date
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