promised full revenge next time. Just as he was opening the carriage door,
one of the Mulligan fraternity said in a stage-whisper:
"He's a blanky sink-pocket. If he can come this far,
let him come on to Sydney and play for double the stakes."
Like a shot the priest turned on him.

"Bedad, an' if THAT'S yer talk, Oi'll play ye fer double stakes
from here to the other side of glory. Do yez think men are mice
because they eat cheese? It isn't one of the Ryans would be fearing
to give any man his revinge!"

He snorted defiance at them, grabbed his cards and waded in.
The others felt that a crisis was at hand and settled down to play
in a dead silence. But the priest kept on winning steadily,
and the "old man" of the Mulligan push saw that something decisive
must be done, and decided on a big plunge to get all the money back
on one hand. By a dexterous manipulation of the cards
he dealt himself four kings, almost the best hand at poker.
Then he began with assumed hesitation to bet on his hand,
raising the stake little by little.

"Sure ye're trying to bluff, so ye are!" said the priest,
and immediately raised it.

The others had dropped out of the game and watched with painful interest
the stake grow and grow. The Mulligan fraternity felt a cheerful certainty
that the "old man" had made things safe, and regarded themselves
as mercifully delivered from an unpleasant situation. The priest went on
doggedly raising the stake in response to his antagonist's challenges
until it had attained huge dimensions.