"What!" he cried. "You don't agree! Did you understand me? Fifty
pounds, Trent! Why, you must be mad!"

"Oh, shut up!' Trent growled. "I don't want your money, and the
brandy's poison to you! Go to sleep!"

Monty crept a little nearer to his partner and laid his hand upon
his arm. His shirt fell open, showing the cords of his throat
swollen and twitching. His voice was half a sob.

"Trent, you are a young man - not old like me. You don't understand
my constitution. Brandy is a necessity to me! I've lived on it so
long that I shall die if you keep it from me. Remember, it's a
whole day since I tasted a drop! Now I'll make it a hundred. What
do you say to that? One hundred!"

Trent paused in his game, and looked steadfastly into the eager face
thrust close to his. Then he shrugged his shoulders and gathered up
the cards.

"You're the silliest fool I ever knew," he said bluntly, "but I
suppose you'll worry me into a fever if you don't have your own way."

"You agree?" Monty shrieked. Trent nodded and dealt the cards.

"It must be a show after the draw," he said. "We can't bet, for
we've nothing to raise the stakes with!"

Monty was breathing hard and his fingers trembled, as though the