Desert Dust Part 17

My Lady whispered to me.

"All's fair in love and war. Here--put this on, with yours, for me." She slipped a dollar of her own into my hand.

Another man stepped forward. He was, I judged, a teamster. His clothes, of flannel shirt, belted trousers and six-shooter and dusty boots, so indicated. And his beard was s.h.a.ggy and unkempt, almost covering his face underneath his drooping slouch hat.

"I'll stake you a dollar," he said.

"Two from me," I heard myself saying, and I saw my hand depositing them.

"You're all on this gentleman's card, remember?"

We nodded. The bearded man tipped me a wink.

"You, sir, then, turn the queen if you can," the gambler challenged of Jim.

With quick movement Jim flopped the bent-corner card, and the queen herself seemed to wink jovially at us.

The gambler exclaimed.

"By G.o.d, gentlemen, but you've skinned me again. I'm clumsy to-night. I'd better quit." And he scarcely varied his level tone despite the chuckles of the crowd. "You must let me try once more. But I warn you, I want action. I'm willing to meet any sum you stack up against me, if it's large enough to spell action. Shall we go another round or two before I close up?" He gathered the three cards. "You see the queen--my unlucky queen of hearts. Here she is." He stowed the card between thumb and finger. "Here are the other two." He held them up in his left hand--the eight of clubs, the eight of spades. He transferred them--with his rapid motion he strewed the three. "Choose the queen. I put the game to you fair and square. There are the cards. Maybe you can read their backs. That's your privilege." He fixed his eyes upon the teamster. "You, sir; where's your money, half of which was mine?" He glanced at Jim. "And you, sir? You'll follow your luck?" Lastly he surveyed me with a flash of steely bravado. "And you, young gentleman. You came in before. I dare you."

The bent corner was more p.r.o.nounced than ever, as if aggravated by the manipulations. It could not possibly be mistaken by the knowing. And a sudden shame possessed me--a glut of this crafty advantage to which I was stooping; an advantage gained not through my own wit, either, but through the dishonorable trick of another.

"There's your half from me, if you want it," said Jim, slapping down two dollars. "This is my night to howl."

The teamster backed him.

"I'm on the same card," said he.

And not to be outdone--urged, I thought, by a pluck at my sleeve--I boldly followed with my own two dollars, reasoning that I was warranted in partially recouping, for Benton owed me much.

The gambler laughed shortly. His gaze, cool and impertinent, enveloped our front. He leaned back, defiant.

"Give me a chance, gentlemen. I shall not proceed with the play for that picayune sum before me. This is my last deal and I've been loser. It's make or break. Who else will back that gentleman's luck? I've placed the cards the best I know how. But six or eight dollars is no money to me. It doesn't pay for floor s.p.a.ce. Is n.o.body else in? What? Come, come; let's have some sport. I dare you. This time is my revenge or your good fortune.

Play up, gentlemen. Don't be crabbers." He smiled sarcastically; his words stung. "This isn't p.u.s.s.y-in-a-corner. It's a game of wits. You wouldn't bet unless you felt c.o.c.k-sure of winning. I'll give you one minute, gentlemen, before calling all bets off unless you make the pot worth while."

The threat had effect. n.o.body wished to let the marked card get away. That was not human nature. Bets rained in upon the table--bank notes, silver half dollars, the rarer dollar coins, and the common greenbacks. He met each wager, while he sat negligent and half smiled and chewed his unlighted cigar.

"This is the last round, gentlemen," he reminded. "Are you all in? Don't leave with regrets. You," he said, direct to me. "Are you in such short circ.u.mstances that you have no s.p.u.n.k? Why did you come here, sir, if not to win? Why, the stakes you play would not buy refreshment for the lady!"

That was too much. I threw scruples aside. He had badgered me--he was there to win if he could; I now was hot with the same design. I extracted my twenty-dollar note, and deaf to a quickly breathed "Wait the turn" from My Lady I planked it down before him. She should know me for a man of decision.

"There, sir," said I. "I am betting twenty-two dollars in all, which is my limit to-night, on the same right-end card as I stand."

I thought that I had him. Forthwith he straightened alertly, spoke tartly.

"The game is closed, gentlemen. Remember, you are wagering on the first turn. There are no splits in monte. Not at this table. Our friend says the right-end card. You, sir," and he addressed Jim. "They are backing you.

Which do you say is the queen? Lay your finger on her."

Jim so did, with a finger stubby, and dirty under the nail.

"That is the card, is it? You are agreed?" he queried us, sweeping his cold gray eyes from face to face. "We'll have no crabbing."

We nodded, intently eying the card, fearful yet, some of us, that it might be denied us.

"You, sir, then." And he addressed me. "You are the heaviest better.

Suppose you turn the card for yourself and those other gentlemen."

I obediently reached for it. My hand trembled. There were sixty or seventy dollars upon the table, and my own contribution was my last cent.

As I fumbled I felt the strain of bodies pressing against mine, and heard the hiss of feverish breaths, and a foolish laugh or two. Nevertheless the silence seemed overpowering.

I turned the card--the card with the bent corner, of which I was as certain as of my own name; I faced it up, confidently, my capital already doubled; and amidst a burst of astonished cries I stared dumbfounded.

It was the eight of clubs! My fingers left it as though it were a snake.

It was the eight of clubs! Where I had seen, in fancy, the queen of hearts, there lay like a changeling the eight of clubs, with corner bent as only token of the transformation.

The crowd elbowed about me. With rapid movement the gambler raked in the bets--a slender hand flashed by me--turned the next card. The queen that was, after all.

The gambler darkened, gathering the pasteboards.

"We can't both win, gentlemen," he said, tone pa.s.sionless. "But I am willing to give you one more chance, from a new deck."

What the response was I did not know, nor care. My ears drummed confusedly, and seeing nothing I pushed through into the open, painfully conscious that I was flat penniless and that instead of having played the knave I had played the fool, for the queen of hearts.

The loss of some twenty dollars might have been a trivial matter to me once--I had at times cast that sum away as vainly as Washington had cast a dollar across the Potomac; but here I had lost my all, whether large or small; and not only had I been bilked out of it--I had bilked myself out of it by sinking, in pretended smartness, below the level of a more artful dodger.

I heard My Lady speaking beside me.

"I'm so sorry." She laid hand upon my sleeve. "You should have been content with small sums, or followed my lead. Next time----"

"There'll be no next time," I blurted. "I am cleaned out."

"You don't mean----?"

"I was first robbed at the hotel. Now here."

"No, no!" she opposed. Jim sidled to us. "That was a bungle, Jim."

He ruefully scratched his head.

"A wrong steer for once, I reckon. I warn't slick enough. Too much money on the table. But it looked like the card; I never took my eyes off'n it.

We'll try ag'in, and switch to another layout. By thunder, I want revenge on this joint and I mean to get it. So do you, don't you, pardner?" he appealed to me.

As with mute, sickly denial I turned away it seemed to me that I sensed a shifting of forms at the monte table--caught the words "You watch here a moment"; and close following, a slim white hand fell heavily upon My Lady's shoulder. It whirled her about, to face the gambler. His smooth olive countenance was dark with a venom of rage incarnate that poisoned the air; his syllables crackled.

"You devil! I heard you, at the table. You meddle with my come-ons, will you?" And he slapped her with open palm, so that the impact smacked. "Now get out o' here or I'll kill you."

She flamed red, all in a single rush of blood.