the trays and spread them about. There were very many trays, they nested
one upon the other--and they were exceedingly ingenious
trays--false-bottomed every one. And now he opened these false-bottoms,
every one of them, and stood and looked at them. The surest, safest,
biggest game he had ever played, the game that had known no single
hitch, the game that had brought no whispering breath of suspicion flung
its tribute in his face. Money that he had never tried to count, notes
of all denominations, large and small, glutted the receptacles--jewels
in necklaces, in rings, in pendants, in brooches, in bracelets,
diamonds, rubies, emeralds, winked at him and scintillated and glowed
and were afire.

And he stood and looked upon them. What was it the Flopper had said when
they had brought the Patriarch back--he did not remember. What was it
that Pale Face Harry had said a little while ago--he did not remember.
These were jewels here and money--wealth--and he had won the greatest
game that was ever played--only he had lost her--lost Helena. And he
stood and looked upon them--and slowly there crept to his face a
white-lipped smile.

"I'm beat!" he whispered hoarsely. "Beat--by the game--I won."




--XXI--

FACE VALUE