The man called Hans now sprang to his feet.

“I want to warn you,” he said, “that I am extremely lucky at this game.”

“Well, I used to be fairly lucky myself,” said Stubbs.  To himself he said:  “Whoever heard of a German trying to play the American game of poker?”

The man called Hans now led the way to his quarters, where he produced a table, chairs and a pack of cards.  The four men ranged themselves around the table.

As the game progressed there was considerable talk of the status of the opposing armies and Stubbs gained much information that he felt would be of use.  As time passed other officers dropped in to witness the game; and chancing to look over his shoulder, Stubbs was startled to see the face of Hal.  He gave a slight start, but quickly covered this up as he saw a look of annoyance on Hal’s face.

“Hal objects to my gambling, I guess,” Stubbs muttered to himself.  “But what do I care?  I’m glad to gather in a few German coins.  Fortunate that I had some in my pocket.”

The manner in which Hal came to be in the tent was very simple.  He had walked north for some distance, and finding nothing that would prove of value, he had turned back.  He had been attracted by the sound of conversation and had joined the group of German officers near the tent where the game of poker was in progress.  When one of the officers had suggested going in and watching the game Hal had acquiesced.  That is how he found himself standing behind Stubbs and scanning the latter’s cards.

At that moment Stubbs had lost a hand to the man called Hans.  Stubbs was considerably nettled, for he felt sure he should have won.  He turned an eye on Hal, who stood directly behind him.

“Don’t stand behind me,” the little man snapped.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Hal.  “Superstitious?”

“Yes, if you want to call it that,” Stubbs answered.

Hal shifted his position slightly.

Again Stubbs scanned a hand that he felt sure would win.  Hans was the dealer.  As he drew two more cards, Stubbs suddenly gave a start.  He had seen Hans slip a card from his sleeve.

Now Stubbs was not a fighter.  He had shown that on more than one occasion.  But the little man objected to being imposed upon.  Also he had always stood for a square deal in a friendly game of cards.  He had proven that more than once in his younger days.  And now, seeing the man called Hans cheating made Stubbs’ blood boil.

Quietly he leaned across the table and spoke.

“You,” he said, shaking his forefinger in the man’s face, “no wonder you say you are lucky.”

“Why, what do you mean?” demanded Hans, his face turning pale, for he well realized the import of Stubbs’ words.

“I mean,” said Stubbs, and at that moment his hand dropped to his revolver butt, “I mean that you are a cheat!”

Stubbs produced his revolver and levelled it straight at Hans.  Then he swept the circle of surprised faces about him with his eyes.