Part 22 (1/2)

Kid Wolf's opponent was also an American, but one well known to the Mariposans. A stack of gold coins was piled in front of him, and he riffled the cards as he dealt in the manner of a professional. This man was young, also. He wore a green eye shade, and a diamond glittered in his fancy s.h.i.+rt. He was a gambler.

The game seesawed for a time. First Kid Wolf would make a small winning, and then the man with the green eye shade. Most of the bets, however, were so heavy as to make the Mexicans about the table gasp with envy.

But the crisis was coming. The deal pa.s.sed from the gambler to The Kid and back to the gambler again. The pot was already swollen from the antes. The Kid opened.

”I'm stayin',” said the gambler crisply. He pushed in a small pile of gold. ”How many cards?”

”Two,” murmured The Kid.

The gambler took one. The chances were, then, that he had two pairs, or was drawing to make a flush or a straight.

Carefully the two men looked at their cards. Not a muscle of their faces twitched. The gambler's face was frozen--as expressionless as an Indian's. Kid Wolf was his easy self. His usual smile was very much in evidence, unchanged. He made a bet--a large one, and the gambler called and raised heavily. The Kid boosted it again. Then there was a silence, broken only by the tense breathing of the onlookers, who had pushed even closer about the table.

”Five hundred more,” said the gambler after a nerve-racking pause.

”And five,” The Kid drawled softly, pus.h.i.+ng most of his gold into the center of the table.

The gambler's hand shook the merest trifle. Again he looked at the pasteboards in his pale hands. Then he quickly pushed every cent he had into the pot.

”I'm seeing it, and I'm elevatin' it every coin on me. It'll cost yuh--let's see--eight hundred and sixty more!”

It was more than the Texan had--by four hundred dollars. He could, however, stay for his stack. The man in the green eye shade could take out four hundred to even the bet. The Kid, though, did not do this.

”I'll just write an I O U fo' the balance,” he drawled.

”But supposin' yore I O U ain't good?”

”Then this is good,” said Kid Wolf.

The gambler stared. The Texan had placed a .45 on the table near his right hand. And it had been done so quickly that the onlookers exchanged glances. Who was this hombre?

”All right,” growled the man in the green eye shade.

Kid Wolf wrote something with a pencil stub on a bit of paper. When finished, he tossed it to the center of the gold pile, carefully folded.

”That calls yo',” he said coolly. ”What have yo'?”

Nervously, the gambler spread his hand face up on the table. His hands were shaking more than ever.

”A king full,” he jerked out, wetting his lips.

Three kings and a pair of tens--a very good layout in a two-handed game with a huge pot at stake!

”Beats me,” said The Kid. ”I congratulate yo'.”

With a sigh of relief, the gambler began to pull the winnings toward him.

”Better look at the I O U,” The Kid drawled, ”and see that it's all right and proper.” As he spoke, he tossed his cards carelessly toward the gambler, face down.