A crowd gathered around in a moment: then the youth resumed:

"Feller-citizens, all of you know how to play cards, no doubt. What is
the penalty of cheating, out here in the Hills?"

For a few seconds the room was wrapt in silence; then a chorus of
voices gave answer, using a single word:

"Death!"

"Exactly," said Harris, calmly. "When a sharp hides cards in Chinaman
fashion up his sleeve, I reckon that's what you call cheatin', don't
you?"

"That's the size of it," assented each bystander, grimly.

Ned Harris pressed his pistol-muzzle against the gambler's forehead,
inserted his fingers in each of the capacious sleeves, and a moment
later laid several high cards upon the table.

A murmur of incredulity went through the crowd of spectators. Even
"pilgrim" Redburn was astonished.

After removing the cards, Ned Harris turned and leveled his revolver
at the head of the young man from the East.

"Your name?" he said, briefly, "is--"

"Harry Redburn."