A GAME ON THE TRAIN
The three men in the compartment looked up as Phelan Baker and Roy
entered. They exchanged significant glances, but the boy from the
ranch did not notice them. Then the men made room for the new-comers
on the richly upholstered couches.
"Ah, how are you, Baker?" said Isaac Sutton. "Glad to see you."
"Allow me to introduce a friend of mine," said Mr. Baker presenting Roy
to the three men in turn. "He can tell you all you want to know about
ranch life," for, by skillful questioning Mr. Baker had learned more
about Roy than the lad was aware he had told.
"That's good," remarked Jerome Hynard. "I may decide to buy a ranch,
some day."
"Would you say it was a healthy sort of life?" asked Dennison Tupper,
who was quite pale, and looked as if he had some illness.
"It was very healthy out where I was," answered Roy.
"I guess one look at you proves that," put in Mr. Baker, in an admiring
tone. "You seem as strong and hardy as a young ox."
"Yes, and I eat like one, when I'm on a round-up," said the boy.
There was considerable more conversation, the men asking Roy many
questions about western life, and showing an interest in the affairs of
the ranch. Roy answered them to the best of his ability, and naturally
was pleased that the men should think him capable of giving them
information.
Finally, when the conversation began to lag a bit, Dennison Tupper
remarked:
"Perhaps our young friend would have no objections if we gentlemen
played a game of cards to pass away the time."
"Certainly I have no objections to your playing," said Roy, who had
often watched the cowboys at the ranch play various games.
Once more the four men exchanged glances. Mr. Baker produced a pack of
cards and soon the travelers were deep in the game. They did not seem
to be gambling, only playing for "fun" as they called it.
"Oh, I believe I'm tired. I'm going to drop out," suddenly remarked
Mr. Baker.
"Oh, don't do that," expostulated Sutton.
"No, you'll break up the game," remonstrated Tupper.
"Of course. Three can't play whist very well," added Hynard in rather
ungracious tones. "Be a good fellow and stay in the game, Baker."
"No, I'm tired."
"Perhaps our young friend from the ranch will take your place,"
suggested Sutton. "Will you--er--Mr. Bradner? We'll play for love or
money, just as you like. You must be a sport--all the western chaps
are. Come on, sit in the game, take Mr. Baker's place and don't let it
break up."
It was a cunning appeal, addressed both to Roy's desire to be of
service to his new friends, and also to his vanity. Fortunately he was
proof against both. Roy had watched the men playing cards, and, to his
mind they showed altogether too much skill. They acted more like
regular gamblers than like persons playing to pass away an idle hour.
He was at once suspicious.
"No, thank you," he said. "I never play cards, for love or money."
Something seemed to annoy at least three of the men, and they looked at
Mr. Baker.
"Why I thought you said--" began Tupper, winking at the man who had
first made Roy's acquaintance.
"Dry up!" exclaimed Hynard. "That's all right," he added quickly to
the boy. "We don't want any one to play against his will. It's all
right. We only thought maybe you'd like to pass away the time. I dare
say Baker will stick in the game now."
"Oh, yes, I'll stay to oblige you, but I don't care for it," and
pretending to suppress a yawn, Mr. Baker again took his seat at the
small card table. A little later Roy left the apartment, going back to
his place in the parlor car.
"I don't like those three men," he said to himself. "I believe they
are professional gamblers. Mr. Baker seems nice, but I wouldn't trust
the others."
As for the four men whom Roy had left, they seemed to lose all interest
in their game, after the boy from the ranch was out of sight.
"Humph!" exclaimed Hynard. "That didn't work, did it?"
"No more than Isaac's attempt last night to get--" began Tupper, but
Sutton silenced him with a gesture.
"Hush! Not so loud!" he said. "Some one may hear you."
"Leave it to me," said Mr. Baker. "I think I can get him into
something else soon. You fellows lay low until I give you the tip."
The rest of that morning Roy saw nothing of the men whose acquaintance
he had made. He got into conversation with several other passengers,
some of whom were interesting characters. One man, who had traveled
extensively, pointed out, along the way, the various scenes of note,
telling Roy something about them.
It was after dinner when Mr. Phelan Baker, followed by his three
friends, entered the parlor car. They took seats near where Roy had
chanced to rest.
"Traveling is rather dull, isn't it?' began Mr. Baker.
"I don't find it so," replied Roy.
"No, that's because it's your first journey. Wait until you have
crossed the continent a dozen times, and you'll begin to wish you'd
never seen it."
"It seems to me there is always something of interest," said the boy.
"Probably there is, if your eyesight is good, and you can see it. I'm
getting along in years, and I can't see objects as well as I once
could."
"I suppose you must have pretty good eyesight, haven't you?" asked
Sutton, abruptly taking part in the conversation. Roy and the four men
were all alone in one end of the car, the other passengers, with but
few exceptions, having gotten off at various stations.
"Well, I reckon I don't need glasses to see the brand on a steer,"
replied Roy.
"That's so, and I guess you have to be pretty quick to distinguish the
different branding marks, don't you?"
"You do when you're cutting out a bunch of cattle after a round-up.
They keep moving around so it's hard to tell which are yours, and which
belong to another ranch."
"What did I tell you?" asked Sutton in triumph of Hynard, who sat next
to him.
"Well, you're right," admitted the other.
Roy looked a little surprised at this conversation. Mr. Baker
explained.
"My two friends here were having a little dispute about eyesight," he
said. "Mr. Sutton said you had the best eyesight of any one he ever
saw, and were quick to notice anything. He said you had to be to work
on a cattle range."
"And Mr. Hynard said he believed he had as good eyesight as you," put
in Tupper.
"I told him he hadn't, and we agreed to ask you," went on Sutton.
"That's all right. His saying so doesn't prove it," remarked Hynard,
in a somewhat surly tone.
"Of course not, but it doesn't take much to see that he has better
eyesight than you, and is quicker with it. He has to be to use a
lasso, don't you, Mr. Bradner?"
"Well, it does take a pretty quick eye and hand to get a steer when
he's on the run," admitted Roy.
"And you can do it, I'll bet. Hynard, you're not in it with this lad."
"I believe I am!"
"Now don't get excited," advised Mr. Baker, in soothing tones. "We can
easily settle this matter."
"How? We haven't got a lasso here, nor a wild steer," said Hynard.
"Anyhow I don't claim I can throw a lariat as well as he can. I only
said I had as quick eyesight."
"Well, we can prove that," went on Mr. Baker.
"How?"
"Easy money. Let's see. This windowsill will do."
From his pocket Mr. Baker produced three halves of English walnut
shells, and a small black ball, about the size of a buck shot. It
seemed to be made of rubber.
"Here's a little trick that will prove any one's eyesight," he said.
"The eye doctors in New York use it to test any person who needs
glasses. A doctor friend of mine gave me this."
"How do you work it?" asked Hynard, seemingly much interested.
"This way. I place these three shells on the windowsill, so. Then I
put the little ball under one. Watch me closely. I move it quite
fast, first putting it under one shell, then the other. Now, I stop
and, Hynard, tell me which shell it's under! I don't believe you can,
I think my young friend can do so."
"All right," agreed Hynard.
"Which shell is the ball under?" asked Mr. Baker, drawing back, and
leaving the three shells in a row; they all looked alike, yet Roy was
sure the ball was under the middle one.
"It's under there!" exclaimed Hynard, putting his finger on the end
shell nearest Roy.
"Is it?" asked Mr. Baker with a laugh, as he raised it up, and showed
nothing beneath. "Now let Mr. Bradner try."
"I think it's there," spoke the boy, indicating the middle shell.
"Right you are," came from Mr. Baker, as he lifted the shell, and
disclosed the ball.
"Well, it's easier to pick the right one out of two, than out of
three," remonstrated Hynard.
"All right. I'll give him first pick this time," and once more Mr.
Baker manipulated the shells and ball.
"Now where is it?" he asked Roy quickly. The boy, who was quite taken
with the new trick, was eagerly leaning forward, watching with eyes
that little escaped, the movements of Mr. Baker's fingers.
"It's there," he said quietly, indicating the shell farthest away from
him.
"What did I tell you?" asked Mr. Baker, lifting the shell and showing
that Roy was right.
"He's got you beat, Hynard," said Sutton.
"Well, I'll bet he can't do it again."
Roy did, much to his own amusement.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Hynard suddenly. "I'll bet you five
dollars I can do it this time, Baker."
"Very well, I'll go you."
The money was put up, the shells shifted, and Hynard made his choice.
He got the right shell.
"There's where I lose five dollars," said Mr. Baker, with regret,
passing the bill to Hynard.
"You try him," whispered Tupper to Roy. "You can guess right every
time. Bet him ten dollars. You can't make money easier."
All at once the real meaning of what had just taken place was revealed
to Roy. The men wanted him to gamble, under the guise of a trick. And
he was sharp enough to know that once he bet any money, the shell he
would pick out would have no ball under it. In fact, had he taken the
bait and bet, Mr. Baker, by a sleight-of-hand trick, would not have put
the ball under any shell so that, no matter which one Roy selected, he
would have been wrong, and would have lost, though they might have let
him win once or twice, just to urge him on. Understanding what the
trick was, he exclaimed:
"I don't think I care to bet any money. I have proved that I have
quick eyesight, and I think that's all you wanted to know," and,
turning away he went back to his chair, at the farther end of the car.