Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
By REX BEACH
Author of "THE SILVER HORDE" "THE SPOILERS" "THE IRON TRAIL" Etc.
With an ostentatious flourish Mr. "Lucky" Broad placed a crispten-dollar bill in an eager palm outstretched across his folding-table.
"The gentleman wins and the gambler loses!" Mr. Broad proclaimed to theworld. "The eye is quicker than the hand, and the dealer's moans ismusic to the stranger's ear." With practised touch he rearranged thethree worn walnut-shells which constituted his stock in trade. Beneathone of them he deftly concealed a pellet about the size of a five-grainallopathic pill. It was the erratic behavior of this tiny ball, itsmysterious comings and goings, that had summoned Mr. Broad's audienceand now held its observant interest. This audience, composed of roughlydressed men, listened attentively to the seductive monologue whichaccompanied the dealer's deft manipulations, and was greatlyentertained thereby. "Three tiny tepees in a row and a little blackmedicine-man inside." The speaker's voice was high-pitched and itcarried like a "thirtythirty." "You see him walk in, you open the door,and—you double your money. Awfully simple! Simpully awful! What? As Ilive! The gentleman wins ten more—ten silver-tongued song-birds, tenmessengers of mirth—the price of a hard day's toil. Take it, sir, andmay it make a better and a stronger man of you. Times are good and Ispend my money free. I made it packin' grub to Linderman, four bits apound, but—easy come, easy go. Now then, who's next? You've seen mework. I couldn't baffle a sore-eyed Siwash with snow-glasses."
Lucky Broad's three-legged table stood among some stumps beside themuddy roadway which did service as the main street of Dyea and alongwhich flowed an irregular stream of pedestrians; incidental to hispractised manipulation of the polished walnut-shells he maintained anunceasing chatter of the sort above set down. Now his voice was loudand challenging, now it was apologetic, always it stimulated curiosity.One moment he was jubilant and gay, again he was contrite andquerulous. Occasionally he burst forth into plaintiveself-denunciations.
Fixing a hypnotic gaze upon a bland, blue-eyed bystander who had justjoined the charmed circle, he murmured, invitingly: "Better try yourluck, Olaf. It's Danish dice—three chances to win and one to lose."
The object of his address shook his head. "Aye ant Danish, Aye ban
Norvegen," said he.
"Danish dice or Norwegian poker, they're both the same. I'll deal you afree hand and it won't cost you a cent. Fix your baby blues on thelittle ball and watch me close. Don't let me deceive you. Now then,which hut hides the grain?"
Noting a half-dozen pairs of eyes upon him, the Norseman becameconscious that he was a center of interest. He grinned half-heartedlyand, after a brief hesitation, thrust forth a clumsy paw, lifted ashell, and exposed the object of general curiosity.
"You guessed it!" There was commendation, there was pleased surprise,in Mr. Broad's tone. "You can't fool a foreigner, can you, boys? My,my! Ain't it lucky for me that we played for fun? But you got to giveme another chance, Lars; I'll fool you yet. In walks the little pillonce more, I make the magic pass, and you follow me attentively,knowing in your heart of hearts that I'm a slick un. Now then, shoot,Kid; you can't miss me!"
The onlookers stirred with interest; with eager fingers the artlessNorwegian fumbled in