M. Montfort looked up for a moment as Frank stopped to watch the game.  Their eyes met.  The Frenchman permitted a sneer to steal across his face, while Frank looked at him steadily till his eyes dropped.

At a glance, Merry saw that Bloodgood was “shakey.”  The fellow had been growing worse and worse as the voyage progressed, and now he seemed on the verge of a break-down.

A few minutes after entering the room Frank heard one of the spectators whisper to another that Bloodgood was “bulling the game,” and had lost heavily.

Bloodgood was drinking deeply.  Mr. Slush seemed to be indulging rather freely.  The Frenchman sipped a little wine now and then, and the Englishman drank at regular intervals.

The Frenchman was perfectly cool.  The Englishman was phlegmatic.  Slush hesitated sometimes, but, to the surprise of the boys, seemed rather collected.  Bloodgood was hot and excited.

Frank took a position where he could look on.  He watched every move.  After a time he discerned that the Englishman and the Frenchman were playing to each other, although the trick was done so skillfully that it did not seem apparent.

Bloodgood lost all his chips.  The game was held up for a few moments.  He stepped into the next room and returned with a fresh supply.

“This is the bottom,” he declared.  “You people may have them as soon as you like.  To blazes with them!  Let’s lift the limit.”

“Ah—­er—­let’s throw it off—­entirely,” suggested Mr. Slush.

Bloodgood glared at the little man in astonishment.

“What?” he cried.  “You propose that?  Why, you didn’t want to play a bigger game than a quarter limit at the start!”

“Perhaps you are—­er—­right,” admitted Mr. Slush.  “I—­er—­don’t deny it.  But I have grown more—­more interested, you understand.  I—­I don’t mind playing a good game—­now.”

“Well, then, if the other gentlemen say so, by the gods, we’ll make it no limit!” Bloodgood almost shouted.

The Frenchman bowed suavely, a slight smile curling the ends of his pointed mustache upward.

“I haf not ze least—­what you call eet?—­ze least objectshong,” he purred.

“I don’t mind,” said the Englishman.

Now there was great interest.  Somehow, Frank felt that a climax was coming.  He watched everything with deep interest.

Luck continued to run against Bloodgood.  To Frank’s surprise, it was plain Mr. Slush was winning.  This seemed to surprise and puzzle both the Englishman and the Frenchman.

It was hard work to draw the little man in when Hazleton or Montfort dealt.  On his own deal or that of Bloodgood, he seemed ready for anything.

“By Jove!” whispered Frank, in Diamond’s ear.  “That man is not such a fool as I thought!  I haven’t been able to understand him at all, and I don’t understand him now.”

At length there came a big jack-pot.  It was passed round several times.  Then Hazleton opened it on three nines.