He slid five twenty-dollar gold pieces on to the table, and stood up,
yawning.
"I think I'll quit, too," Cranford said. "I've played like a wooden man.
To tell you the truth, I haven't enjoyed the game--don't know what's the
matter with me."
"I'm winner," Shipley declared, "so I'll stick with the game; but right
now I'd rather shove the two hundred into a pot and cut for it than turn
another card, for to play one round with a card shy is a hoodoo to me.
I've got a superstition about it. It's come my way twice, and each time
there's been hell."
The boyish smile that had been hovering about Hadley's lips suddenly
gave place to a hard sneer, and he said: "I'm loser and I don't want to
quit. The game is young, and, gentlemen, you know what that means."
Shipley's black brows drew together, and he turned on the speaker:
"I haven't got your money, mister; your losin' has been to Seth. I don't
like your yap a little bit. I'll cut the cards cold for a thousand now,
or I'll make you a present of the two hundred if you need it."
Carney's quiet voice hushed into nothingness a damn that had issued from
Hadley's lips; he was saying: "You two gentlemen can't quarrel over a
game of cards that I've sat in; I don't think you want to, anyway. We'd
better just put the game off till to-morrow night."
"We can't do that," Seth objected; "I've won Mr. Hadley's money, and if
he wants to play I've got to stay with him. We'll square up and start
fresh. Anybody wants to draw cards sets in; them as don't, quits."
"I've got to have my wallet out of your box, Seth, if we're to settle
now; besides I want another sensation--this bottle's dry," Hadley
advised.
"I'll bring over the cards, your wad, and another bottle," Long said as
he rose.
In three or four minutes he was back again, pulled the cork from a
bottle of Scotch whisky, and they all drank.
Then, after passing a leather wallet over to Hadley, he totaled up the
accounts.
Hadley was twelve hundred loser.
He took from the wallet this amount in large bills, passed them to Seth,
and handed the wallet back, saying, with the boy's smile on his lips,
"Here, banker, put that back in your pocket--you're responsible. There's
forty-eight hundred there now. If I put it in my pocket I'll probably
forget it, and hang the coat on my bedpost."