Hamar demanded, as
soon as he had freed himself from Kelson's clutches. "We can't get
breakfast here." "Matt's mad, that's what's the matter with him," Curtis added in
disgust. "Let's get out." He turned to go--then, halted--and stood still. He appeared to be
listening. "What's up with you?" Hamar asked. "Both you fellows are
behaving like lunatics this morning--there's not a pin to choose
between you." "They're playing cards, that's all," Curtis said. "Can't you hear
them?" Hamar shook his head. "Not a sound," he said. "Just look at Matt!" While the other two were talking, Kelson had followed the girl to the
bar, and catching her up, just as she entered it, said in a manner
that was peculiar to him--a manner seldom without effect upon girls of
his class--"I beg your pardon, miss, are we too early to be served? Jerusalem! Haven't I met you somewhere before?" The girl looked him square in the eyes and then smiled. "As like as
not," she said. "I go pretty near everywhere! What do you want?" "Well!" Kelson soliloquized; "breakfast is what we are particularly
anxious for--but I suppose that is out of the question in a dive!" "Then why did you come here?" the girl queried. "Because of you! Simply because of you," Kelson replied. "You
hypnotized me!" "That being so, then I reckon you can have your breakfast," the girl
laughed, "though we don't provide them as a rule before nine. Indeed,
the management have only just decided--this morning--on providing them
at all." "How odd!" "Why odd?" the girl questioned, taking off her hat and arranging her
curls before a mirror. "Why, that I should have happened to strike the right moment! Had I
come here yesterday it would have been useless. As I said, you
hypnotized me. Evidently fate intended us to meet." "Do you believe in fate?" the girl asked, shrugging her shoulders. "I
believe in nothing--least of all in men!" "You say so!" Kelson observed, before he knew what he was saying. "And
yet you have just got engaged to one. But you've got a bad attack of
the pip this morning, you have had enough of it here--you want to get
another post." The girl ceased doing her hair and eyed him in amazement. "Well!" she
said. "Of all the queer men I've ever met you are the queerest. Are
you a seer?" "No!" Hamar observed, suddenly joining in. "He's only very hungry,
miss. Hungry body and soul! hungry all over. And so are we." "Well, then, go into the room over there," the girl cried, pointing in
the direction of a half-open door, "and breakfast will be brought you
in half a jiffy." "Who's that playing cards?" Curtis asked. "How do you know any one is playing cards?" the girl queried with an
incredulous stare. "You can't see through walls, can you?" "No! and I'm hanged if I can explain," Curtis said, "I seem to hear
them. There are two--one is called Arnold, and the other Lemon, or
some such name, and they are rehearsing certain card tricks they mean
to play to-night." "That's right," the girl said, "two men named Arnold and Lemon are
here. They were playing all last night with two of the clerks in
Willows Bank, in Sacramento Street, and they cleared them out of every
cent. You knew it!" "No! I didn't," Curtis growled, "I don't lie for fun, and I'm just as
much in a fog, as to how I know, as you are. Let's have breakfast now,
and we'll look up these two gents afterwards, if they haven't gone." "Your friend's a brute, I don't like him," the girl whispered to
Kelson. "Let him lose all he's got--you stay out here." "Nothing I should like better," Kelson said, "it's a bargain!" The breakfast was so good that they lingered long over it, and the
bar-room had a fair sprinkling of people when they re-entered it. Leaving Kelson to chat with the girl, Hamar and Curtis, obeying her
directions, found their way to a small parlour in the rear of the
building, where two men were lolling over a card table, smoking and
drinking, and reading aloud extracts from a pink sporting paper. "It's a funny thing," one of them exclaimed, "we can't be allowed to
sit here in peace--when there's so much spare space in the house." "We beg your pardon for intruding," Curtis said, "but my friend and I
came in here for a quiet game of cards. We're farmers down Missouri
way, and don't often get the chance to run up to town." "Farmers, are you!" the man who had not yet spoken said, eyeing them
both closely. "You don't look it. My friend Lemon, here, and I were
also wanting to have a game--would you care to join us?" "By all means," Curtis at once exclaimed. "What do you play?" "Poker!" the man said, "Nap! Don! But I'll show you something first,
which, being fresh from the country, you've probably never seen
before, though they do tell me people in Missouri are mighty cute." He
then proceeded to show them what he called the Bull and Buffalo trick,
the secret of which he offered to sell them for ten dollars. "I wouldn't give you a cent for it!" Curtis snapped. "Any one can see
how it is done." "You can't!" the man retorted, turning red. "I'll wager twenty dollars
you can't." Curtis accepted the wager, and at once did the trick. He
had seen through it at a glance--there appeared no difficulty in it at
all; and yet he was quite certain if he had been asked to do it the
day before, he would have utterly failed. "Now," he said, "give me the money,"--and the man complied with an
oath. "Any more tricks?" Curtis asked complacently. "I know heaps," the man rejoined. "There's one you won't guess--the
seven card trick." He did it. And so did Curtis. "Well I'm----" the man called Lemon ejaculated. "He's the dandiest cove at tricks we've ever struck. Try him with the
Prince and Slipper, Arnold!" Arnold rather reluctantly assented, and Curtis burst out laughing. "Why!" he said, "that's the simplest of all! See!" And it was done. "You two had better come to an understanding with us or you'll not
shine to-night. How about a game of Don?" Lemon and Arnold agreed, but they had barely begun before Curtis cried
out, "It's no use, Lemon, I can see those deuces up your sleeve. You've some up yours, too, Arnold--the deuce of clubs and the deuce of
hearts. Moreover, you can tell our cards by notches and thumb smears
on the backs. I'll show you how." He told the cards correctly--there
was no gainsaying it. The men were overwhelmed. "What are you, anyway?" Lemon asked; "tecs?" "Never mind what we are!" Curtis said savagely. "We know what you
are--and that's where the rub comes in. Now what are you going to pay
us to hold our tongues?" "Pay you!" Lemon hissed. "Why, damn you--nothing. We're not bankers. All we've got to do is clear out and try somewhere else." "That might not be so easy as you imagine," Hamar interposed. "We
would make it our business to have a scene first. Why not come to
terms? We'll not be over exorbitant--and consider the convenience of
not having to shift your quarters." "Well, of all the blooming frousts I've struck, none beats this,"
Lemon said.