A HOT GAME.
As the game progressed Piper found himself losing steadily, and, what
was most annoying, almost always he was beaten by Shultz, who himself
was having bad luck and growling over it.
“Good thing for me you came into the game, Eagle Eye,” said Shultz,
laying down three Jacks, which topped Piper’s three tens, and pulling in
the chips. “These other sharks would have had me skinned to the bone by
this time, only for you.”
“Oh, my turn will come,” declared Sleuth. “Give me another stack, Ned;
that one’s gone.”
Osgood counted out another dollar’s worth of chips and received Billy’s
money, which he deposited in the handsome chip case.
“You’re the right sort after all, Sleuthy,” he smiled. “You’re a good
loser. I realize that I haven’t known you very well up to date.”
“A man,” said Piper loftily, “should take his losings without
squealing.”
“What do you mean by that?” snapped Shultz. “Are you knocking me?”
“Oh, no—no, not at all,” Piper hastened to disclaim, aware that the
fellow’s bad fortune had aroused his belligerent nature.
“Because if you are,” warned the ruffled gamester, “you’d better cut it
out. I don’t like it, and I won’t stand for it.”
“Oh, come, Charley,” protested Osgood; “don’t be so raw. I’ve seen you
lose twice as much without growling.”
“But I can’t afford to lose to-night,” was the retort. “I’m not very
flush, and my old man thinks I’m blowing too much geldt, anyhow. That’s
the worst of having a close-fisted father. If I were in your shoes, Ned,
I could stand a loss; but you’re usually lucky, and you seldom quit
behind the game.”
“I’ve been having a streak, that’s all,” explained Osgood. “Luck runs
that way occasionally, but it usually turns in time. You fellows will
get into me if you keep at it; you’re sure to.”
Hooker, likewise a loser, was keeping quiet and attending strictly to
business. Unlike Shultz, he had not shown an inclination to force his
luck, and doubtless he was waiting for his turn to come. Springer was
also slightly behind, while Cooper was a small winner and therefore
cheerful. The large pile of chips in front of Osgood denoted how the
game was running.
With the suspicion that was characteristic of him, Piper had watched
Osgood’s playing closely to discover, if possible, whether or not Ned
was winning legitimately, and he had arrived at the conclusion that
there was nothing underhanded about it. Moreover, he was falling beneath
the subtle spell of the young fellow’s influence, which had been so
strangely felt by others. Surely Ned was a whole-souled, genial chap
that any one might be proud to claim as a friend; surely Nelson’s
suspicions were unfounded; not a word concerning baseball or the
management of the team had been spoken by any of these lads since Sleuth
entered the room.
It was Hooker’s turn to deal, and Roy tossed the pasteboards around.
Piper, picking up his hand, was surprised and delighted to find it
contained two pairs, aces up, and while he was secretly congratulating
himself Osgood chipped.
“Come on, Mr. Good Loser,” invited Shultz. “What are you going to do?
Play faster. You make the game drag.”
“Oh, I’ll come in,” said Sleuth, “and I think—I think I’ll raise it.”
“What do you know a-bub-bub-bout that!” exclaimed Springer. “Sleuth is
plunging! Well, he can’t frighten me; I’ll peg along.”
“Oh, let’s make it interesting,” said Shultz, tossing several chips into
the middle of the board. “I’ll boost it some more.”
“Well, just to keep the pikers out,” announced Hooker, “I’ll give it
another lift.” And he did.
Cooper whistled. “That’s about all I can do for my little measly ante,”
he remarked. “I’ve got a small pair, but you chaps are making it too
stiff for me. I’ll drop out.”
“Well, really,” murmured Osgood, who had placed his cards face downward
before him, “this begins to look like some poker game. I’ll raise ten.”
Piper swallowed and hesitated again. “What do you fellows think you’re
doing before the draw?” he inquired, with a touch of whimsicality. “I’ve
just _got_ to come in.”
“You don’t raise, eh?” questioned Shultz.
“No, I’m satisfied.”
“I’m more than sus-satisfied,” faltered Springer. “This is ruinous, but
I suppose I’m partly to blame. I’ll stay.” He put in the amount needed
to make himself level.
“Wait a minute, Hooker,” said Shultz, perceiving that Roy was nervously
fingering his chips. “It’s my turn. You boosted me, and now I’m coming
back with another limit raise.”
Hooker found that he did not have enough chips, and so before betting he
procured another dollar’s worth from Osgood. Then he raised Shultz.
“Oh, my!” sang Cooper. “I’m glad—I’m glad I staid out. It cost me only
my little snow-white ante.”
“H’m!” said Osgood, picking up his cards and glancing at them. “It seems
that it’s going to cost me more than that. There’s a pair of Indians
sitting over at the other side of the table. Well, fellows, I’m coming.
I’m playing on your money, and you’re welcome to take it away from me if
you can.”
At this point Piper, suddenly getting cold feet, dropped his two pairs.
“I’m out,” he said. “This sort of raising before the draw makes it too
stiff for me.”
Springer seemed to be perspiring freely, and his hands were not quite
steady. “If it’s a game of dud-dud-drive out,” he said, “I’m going to
stick to the last gug-gasp. Here I go. That makes me level.”
Without saying a word, Shultz pushed out two blue chips.
“Do you raise again, Charley?” asked Osgood.
“Money talks,” was the answer; “I put in two blue ones.”
Hooker immediately raised again, whereupon Cooper chuckled still more
gleefully over his cleverness in declining to be drawn in to defend his
ante.
Osgood and Springer met the raise, and Shultz, after giving Hooker a
slantwise glance, pushed out a final blue one and announced that he was
“content.”
“Very well,” said Roy, picking up the pack. “Call for your cards.”
“I’ll take one,” said Osgood.
Springer called for two, and, glancing over Phil’s shoulder, Piper saw
what he held.
“Why, he had me beat,” thought Sleuth. “What can those other fellows
hold?”
“How many do you want, Shultz?” asked Hooker.
“I’ll play these,” was the announcement.
“And I’ll play mine without drawing,” said Roy, a touch of excitement
creeping into his voice in spite of himself.
“Fine! fine!” laughed Osgood. “I had a fine chance, didn’t I! You’ve got
all of my chips that you’ll get. I’m going to drop.”
Springer swallowed once more. “Gee!” he breathed. “I cuc-can’t drop;
I’ve got to bet. I make it a white chip.”
Shultz and Hooker did some betting that caused Springer’s eyes to bulge.
“Great fish-hooks!” spluttered Phil. “You’re a pup-pup-pair of robbers!
Guess I’ve been fool enough. I’ll lay down, too.”
Shultz gave the player at his left a long, hard look. “I wonder if
you’re trying to bluff,” he speculated.
“You’ll find out presently,” answered Roy.
“I ought to raise it again, but I’m going to call, and here’s my hand.
Can you beat it?”
“The pot is mine,” said Hooker, spreading out his cards for all to see.
“My cards are better.” He reached out with both hands and raked the pile
of chips toward him.
“Well, of all infernal luck!” snarled Shultz, flinging his cards
fiercely down upon the table. “I thought my flush was good. It looks
queer to me. You dealt the cards, Hooker.”
Instantly Roy bridled. “What do you mean by that? I hope you don’t
insinuate that there was anything crooked about that deal? You cut.”
“I know I did, but some fellows can——”
“Hold on, Charley,” interrupted Osgood. “There’s no one here that’s
going to play crooked. You haven’t any right to think such a thing. I
was watching, and I’ll guarantee the deal was on the level.”
“Oh, well, if you guarantee it——”
“You might apologize, Shultz,” said Hooker, his voice hard and his face
full of wrath.
“Now don’t _you_ fly off the handle, Roy, old fellow,” entreated Osgood.
“You see, Charley has had rotten luck, and he didn’t really realize what
he was saying. Come on, let’s play the game like gentlemen. You didn’t
mean it, did you, Charley?”
“No, I guess I didn’t,” said Shultz, with apparent reluctance. “I was
half-joking. Forget it, Hooker.”
“All right,” agreed Roy readily enough. “That little pot sort of put me
on my feet, and I’m not anxious to make a disturbance.”
The tension of the moment relaxed somewhat, and the game was resumed,
Cooper giving out the cards.
Piper was heartily glad that Hooker had won, and he felt that Roy was
generous in his willingness to overlook Shultz’s innuendo. He believed
that an encounter between the two boys had been narrowly averted.
For some ten or fifteen minutes the game went on smoothly, nothing but
small hands coming out, which produced little betting. Eventually,
however, four “fighting hands” were dealt, and Piper and Springer sat
back to watch the others, dropping their cards. There were a number of
raises before the draw, in all of which Hooker and Shultz took part.
As if they felt that it was to be a serious struggle, none of the
players ventured to jest or make many comments.
Cooper remained in until the cards were drawn and then he dropped out.
Osgood hung on a while longer, although Shultz and Hooker kept raising
alternately.
“You each took one card,” said Ned at last, “and, as you’re running
wild, I’m going to quit. Fight it out between you.”
“Will you lend me some money, Ned?” asked Shultz.
“Sure,” was the answer. “How much do you want?”
“Well, let me have two dollars’ worth of chips. I may want more.”
“You’re pretty sure, aren’t you?” said Hooker. “You must think you’ve
got this pot cinched.”
“My chips talk,” said Shultz.
“Well, mine talk, too,” snapped Roy.
They made several bets.
“You must have a big hand,” muttered Hooker. “Well, so have I.”
“Oh, go as far as you like,” sneered Shultz. “You can bet all night if
you wish, and I’ll stick by as long as I can get any chips.”
“What have you got?”
“Four bullets,” announced Shultz triumphantly, as he lay his cards down,
exposing four aces.
Hooker took a deep breath. “Well, that beats. I thought I had a pretty
good hand. It’s your pot, Shultz.”
“Hold on! Hold on!” spluttered Piper, his eyes bulging. “Just wait a
minute. There’s something queer here.”
Every one turned to him, Shultz savagely asking what was the matter.
“There’s something queer about this,” reiterated Sleuth. “Why, I—I’m
sure I held an ace in my hand when I laid it down.”
“Go on! you’re dotty!” snarled Shultz. “There are only four aces in the
pack.”
But Sleuth had grabbed the discards, and, turning part of them face
upwards, he exposed to view the fifth ace!