pot. "I drawed out on you. Sometimes the cards run against a fellow a
long time, that way, and then turn right around and get worse."

"Don't you worry about me," retorted Steve. "You're liable to go home
talking to yourself, yet, if the cards break even."

In the early stages of the game Steve had been nervous and restless
from the fever in his blood. Now he was smiling, easy, serene, his
mind working smoothly, like a well-oiled machine. Collecting all his
forces, counting the chances coolly, he played a steady, consistent
game.

The reckless plunging ceased so far as it was against him. The others,
for most part, merely called his tentative bets with wary respect. Men
of his type are never so formidable as in defeat. Things had come to
such a pass that many good hands netted him little or nothing. Then
came a rally; his pile crept slowly up until he was nearly even.

With twenty dollars each in a jackpot, the Eminent Person dealing, the
Stockman modestly opened for two hundred. The Transient stayed, as did
the Merchant and the Judge, the latter mildly stating that he would
lie low and let some one else play his hand. Steve stayed.

"Happy as the dealer in a big jackpot," warbled the Eminent Person.
"And now we will take an observation." He scrutinized his cards,
contributed his quota, and raised for double the amount. "I'll just
play the Judge's hand for him," he remarked blandly. The Stockman
cheerfully re-raised five hundred.

The Transient, momentarily low in funds, stayed for all he had before