Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 7, 1928 — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

90 Chilenos and Kanakxas. No man was watching through the mirror. This nettled Dorsey, for he held four kings, and the fact that both the deacon and the sharp stayed in looked suspicious. The deck must have been cold. He folded up his hand and held it in his palm, backs up. On the top card, which he knew to be the king of diamonds, there was no wrinkle where Dorsey had seen one be- fore. He had noticed that slight wrinkle—purely an accidental mark that could have no possible meaning. But now it was gone. In other words, the deck had been changed. It had been changed possibly when the dealer—who during this hand was the sharp—had delved into his carpet bag for more gold. It was the first time that the sharp had tried to suck Dorsey into the racket. He stayed in. He opened the betting with a pinch of dust, and then pretended to be bluffed out at the deacon’s first big raise. The sharp thus had no inkling of the fact that Dorsey suspected the deck. He merely concluded that the Englishman had no gambling nerve. The deacon went wild, holding a ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. going to die right there. “It’s be- tween you and me, sir?’’ he said jovial- ly to the cheat. “‘Quite a fortune. Hope I can match it if this occurs again,” The sharp reflected that Dorsey had been pretty easily frozen out—even with four of akind. He was not much of a gambler after all. “Sure. It’s between you and me.” They disregarded the shorn lamb. The latter, too dazed to get up, sat staring at the piles of gold, at the scrawny fingers of the sharp, and then up to his rat’s eyes. The rat’s eyes did not meet his. If they had, they would have seen murder slowly kin- dling in the deacon’s hollow sockets. Dorsey was dealing, parting the deck and bringing it together in a whir, then in a cascade of falling cards. It was the cold deck—handed to him by the sharp. All right. If it was not an honest deck, Dorsey would treat it accordingly. : He knew all the tricks ever invented in dealing, even though he never cheated in his life. But this was a peculiar case. He held out an ace of spades, then thrust the deck to his op- ponent for cutting. They played a few hands, first one straight flush. He raised and raised in man winning a pinch of dust, then the geometrical progression, pouring his other. A hand or two trusting to the pepitas and dust into the scales with a_ dictates of fortune. But each time violently trembling hand. The sharp Dorsey dealt, he held out another sweetened it slightly each time, bleed- spade. ing the victim to the very last nugget. | The cold deck came, the sharp deal- “There you are!” the latter cried in ing Dorsey four queens. They went at a shaking voice. He showed his five it quietly, raising each other back and clubs, a straight up to the Jack. forth. The sharp gave no evidence of “T'll be blowed!” the sharp ex- stopping, neither did Dorsey. claimed. ‘“‘ Just beat you by a hair.”_. The glassy-eyed deacon, still con- He put down a straight in hearts up templating murder, saw his own for- to the queen. “ Never saw anything tune being thrust back on the table. like that in my life.” And the fortune of the sharp doubled The deacon went white. He slumped it. And the fortune of the English- back in his chair, his glassy eyes watch- man matched the whole pile. ing the nimble fingers of the cheat “Tf you win this time, Pll kill you,” scooping in his entire fortune. the deacon was muttering. “So help “ Better take a drink,’ Dorsey said. me God, I'll kill you if you win this— Indeed the man looked as if he were a queen over a jack—eh? If this turns .OOKS COMEGE (EO)