It was a simple but effective plan.  Suppose he were caught in the midst of a cheat; his play would be to break away to the outside of the building, shooting out the lights, if possible—­trusting to the confusion to help him—­and there he would find his horse held ready for him at a time when a second might be priceless.  On this occasion no doubt the clever rascal had sensed the suspicion of the others.

At any rate, he lost no time.  He waited neither to find his stirrups nor grip the reins firmly, but the same athletic leap which carried him into the saddle set the horse in motion, and from a standing start the animal broke into a headlong gallop.  He received, however, an additional burden at once.

For Donnegan, from the second time he saw the man of the linen coat, had been revolving a daring plan, and during the poker game the plan had slowly matured.  The moment he made sure that the gambler was heading for a horse, he increased his own speed.  Ordinarily he would have been noted, but now, no doubt, the gambler feared no pursuit except one accompanied by a hue and cry.  He did not hear the shadow-footed Donnegan racing over the soft ground behind him; but when he had gained the saddle, Donnegan was close behind with the impetus of his run to aid him.  It was comparatively simple, therefore, to spring high in the air, and he struck fairly and squarely behind the saddle of the man in the linen coat.  When he landed his revolver was in his hand and the muzzle jabbed into the back of the gambler.

The other made one frantic effort to twist around, then recognized the pressure of the revolver and was still.  The horses, checking their gallops in unison, were softly dog-trotting down the street.

“Call off your man!” warned Donnegan, for the big Negro had reined back; the gun already gleamed in his hand.

A gesture from the gambler sent the gun into obscurity, yet still the fellow continued to fall back.

“Tell him to ride ahead.”

“Keep in front, George.”

“And not too far.”

“Very well.  And now?”

“We’ll talk later.  Go straight on, George, to the clump of trees beyond the end of the street.  And ride straight.  No dodging!”

“It was a good hand you played,” continued Donnegan; taking note that of the many people who were now passing them none paid the slightest attention to two men riding on one horse and chatting together as they rode.  “It was a good hand, but a bad deal.  Your thumb slipped on the card, eh?”

“You saw, eh?” muttered the other.

“And two of the others saw it.  But they weren’t sure till afterward.”

“I know.  The blockheads!  But I spoiled their game for them.  Are you one of us, pal?”

But Donnegan smiled to himself.  For once at least the appeal of gambler to gambler should fail.

“Keep straight on,” he said.  “We’ll talk later on.”

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