Adventure Magazine Cover — page 91: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Pay Gravel drew forth a thick package of greenbacks and dropped them beside the bag. “Seventeen hundred odd in that. Is that voice loud enough for you to hear?” “All right. You’re on. The bank pays you two thousand if you call the right color.” “Red is my color. Shuffle them up, but don’t bend any of them. Go ahead.” The dealer ran the cards together a few times and squared them up and left them on the table. “Any one in particular you’d like to make the cut?” asked the dealer. The stranger bent down to satisfy himself the dealer was not “forcing” a cut by bend- ing the cards, then straightened and glanced about until his gaze rested on Scissors. Motioning him to approach he caught him by the shoulder and pushed him forward and directed: “Cut the deck, Paper Dolls. You’re big medicine, you know. Cut a red card.”’ Scissors stared stupidly as if not under- standing. The stranger repeated his com- mand, now speaking sharply. Scissors timidly advanced a hand and seized the cards. The dealer bowed his head to catch an early glimpse of the color and drew a deep breath and held it. Scissors cut deep and held out his hand. He had cut the ten of hearts. The dealer rose and from a drawer in the table counted out two thousand dollars in dust and currency. and motioned for the winner to use the scales. The stranger finished counting the money and _ then weighed the bags of dust in his brown hands. ‘“‘They heft lke they are enough,” he said. ‘Game closed?” “Closed until I get another stake,” said the dealer, placing the meager residue of cash and dust in a bag to take with him. “You tapped the bank to the limit. It’s yours to run if you wish it till I can get another stake.” The stranger laughed without making any sound and dropped a handful of coins on the table before Scissors. “For you, Paper Dolls.” ~ Then to the dealer— “Maybe I'll wait till you get another stake and then tap the bank again.” “Straight monte, with fifty-dollar limit,” warned the dealer as he turned to go. The stranger walked with him to the door and broke into “‘Joe Bowers from Pike.” He sang only two lines, his attention being attracted by two men approaching from the eating-house. hall, and in a minute Pyrites and Dinsdale entered. Dinsdale gave him a quick look and observed the bandaged head, and walked down ‘to the Twenty-one table. Pyrites, never given to gambling, hurried to the short bar at the end of the room, pro- claiming his desire for strong drink. Dins- dale watched the girl from beneath half- lowered lids for a minute or two and then threw down a greenback. “Pardon, m’sieu, but eet ees not for a gambling man. Take your money.” “But I am not a gambling man,’ tested Dinsdale. “Disputing this young lady, young fel- ler?” growled a bearded man with bloodshot eyes. "ay was setting her right,” gently replied Dinsdale. “But so long as she prefers I don’t play I'll take the money back.” “You have ze gambling look, m’sieu. Pardon, if I mistake. Ze monte bank will be running ver’ soon.” . The stranger laughed boisterously and in response to Dinsdale’s SEeonns glance announced: “The young lady sees the same brand on the two of us, mister. And I’ve just tapped the monte bank. I’m banker and dealer. House limit is fifty. That doesn’t interest me. And monte is a slow game.” “Banker and dealer, both, eh?’? mused Dinsdale, smiling pleasantly. your idea of a good game?”’ The stranger estimated Dinsdale rather shrewdly, and with a drop of the lids glanced at the two big belt-guns. “Color of the card. Five hundred a guess.”’ “Get to your table. I’ll help you pass the time,”’ said Dinsdale. “La la! Oh, no! M’steu is not ze gam- bling man,” trilled the Twenty-one dealer. Pyrites at the bar was taking his second drink and talking volubly to the patient bartender. A new deck was brought to the monte table and thoroughly shuffled. “How did you tap the bank?” carelessly asked Dinsdale as he felt for his money. “Bet two thousand a card would be red.” “Short and sweet. Red ought to be some lucky,” mused Dinsdale, producing a stack of greenbacks. ‘‘There’s five hundred. Give them a cut, please. I call red.” Black came up. The stranger smiled and remarked: ” pro- 85 | He stepped back inside the - “And what’s comicbooks Var}