the chips. What do you think?"

"That I'll beat both their heads off," cut in Meldrum, purple with rage.

"Not necessary, Dan," vetoed Dingwell. "We'll shear the wolves. Each
of you help yourself to chips equal to the amount you have lost. . . .
Now, Mr. Smith, you and your partner will dig up one hundred and
ninety-three dollars for these gentlemen."

"Why?" sputtered Smith. "It's all a frame-up. We've been playing a
straight game. But say we haven't. They have got their chips back.
Let them cash in to the house. What more do you want?"

"One hundred and ninety-three dollars. I thought I mentioned that
already. You tried to rob these men of that amount, but you didn't get
away with it. Now you'll rob yourself of just the same sum. Frisk
yourself, Mr. Smith."

"Not on your life I won't. It. . . it's an outrage. It's robbery.
I'll not stand for it." His words were brave, but the voice of the man
quavered. The bulbous, fishy eyes of the cheat wavered before the
implacable ones of the cattleman.

"Come through."

The gambler's gaze passed around the table and found no help from the
men he had been robbing. A crowd was beginning to gather. Swiftly he
decided to pay forfeit and get out while there was still time. He drew
a roll of bills from his pocket and with trembling fingers counted out
the sum named. He shoved it across the table and rose.