Part 14 (1/2)

Willa tiptoed to the door and peered within. Vernon and four strange young men were seated about a table in the center of the room, which was evidently a den or study.

Vernon was dealing, and his neighbor at the left sat with his back squarely to the door. Over his shoulder, Willa could see his cards as he picked them up; an ace, king, ten, jack, and another king. He refused to open, but the downy-mustached boy on his left, whose voice Willa had first heard, performed that service. The other two strangers stayed out, Vernon trailed and Willa eyed the slim, dark youth whose hand she could see in fascinated suspense.

”Mine are punk.” He yawned indifferently, and threw his cards down upon the table.

The eavesdropper gasped, but watched with narrowed eyes as his tapering fingers lingered, gathering up and sorting the discards with studied listlessness.

The opener checked, the boy next raised him two and Vernon dropped.

”Brace of manicurists!” The first boy showed his openers ruefully.

”Couldn't better 'em. It's all yours, Art.”

The dark youth shuffled the cards twice dexterously and dealt. This time he held four kings and a seven.

”Go to it, Winnie,” he said lazily.

”No, thanks.” Winnie shook his head. ”The tall gra.s.s for mine.”

His neighbor refused likewise, but the lad with the tortoise-rimmed gla.s.ses next Vernon straightened involuntarily.

”I'll open it.” His voice trembled.

”Good-night!” Vernon dropped his cards as if they burned him. ”Sure you're looking at 'em straight, Pete?”

”Come again.” The dealer shoved two blues out on the board.

”Back to you.” The opener's fingers twitched as he dropped four.

”Once more.”

”And two.”

”That's enough for me.” The dealer shrugged, and pushed forward two chips more.

The others sat in wordless enthralment as Pete stood pat and the dealer, with a smile, laid down the pack untouched. The betting proceeded cautiously at first, then by leaps and bounds as Pete lost his head and plunged wildly.

A small mountain of blue chips lay in the center of the table, and the dark, smiling youth seemed prepared to raise it indefinitely, when Pete sighed and drew his hand before his blurred eye-gla.s.ses.

”Call you!” he squeaked. ”What you got, Cal?”

The dealer spread his hand out upon the board and his opponent emitted a moan of anguish as the four kings were exposed.

”And I opened--_opened_ mind you, with four messenger boys, pat!”

Willa did not wait for the buzz of excited comment. Instead she turned and sped noiselessly down the stair to her room. When she reappeared a few moments later she wore a corsage bunch of violets which stuck out oddly from her black gown, and carried a jingling purse.

Ascending once more, she tapped at the door and then slipped shyly in.

”Excuse me!” she said to the open-mouthed group who rose as one man.

”I heard the game going on and I thought maybe you'd let me sit in for a round or two. It isn't just regular, I know, but if you won't tell, _I_ won't.”