“When the time arrives to open the game, the heft of Wolfville’s public is gathered at the Red Light.  The word goes ’round as to the enterprisin’ Holliday bein’ out for Cherokee’s entire game; an’ the prospect of seein’ a limit higher than a cat’s back, an’ a dooel to the death, proves mighty pop’lar.  The play opens to a full house, shore!

“‘What limit do you give me?’ says this Holliday, with a sort o’ cough, at the same time settin’ in opposite to Cherokee.  ’Be lib’ral; I ain’t more’n a year to live, an’ I’ve got to play ’em high an’ hard to get average action.  If I’m in robust health now, with a long, useful life before me, the usual figgers would do.  Considerin’ my wasted health, however, I shore hopes you’ll say something like the even thousand.’

“‘Which I’ll do better than that,’ returns Cherokee, as he snaps the deck in the box, ’I’ll let you fix the limit to suit yourse’f.  Make it the ceilin’ if the sperit moves you.’

“‘That’s gen’rous!’ says Holliday.  ‘An’ to mark my appreciation tharof, I’ll jest nacherally take every resk of splits an’ put ten thousand in the pot, coppered; ten thousand in the big squar’; an’ ten thousand, coppered, on the high kyard.’

“Son, we-all sports standin’ lookin’ on draws a deep breath.  Thirty thousand in three ten thousand dollar bets, an’ all on the layout at once, marks a epock in Wolfville business life wherefrom folks can onblushin’ly date time!  Thar it lays however, an’ the two sharps most onmoved tharby is Cherokee an’ Holliday themse’fs.

“‘Turn your game!’ says this Holliday, when his money is down, an’ leanin’ back to light a seegyar.

“Cherokee makes the turn.  Never does I witness action so sudden an’ complete!  It’s shore the sharpest!  The top kyard as the deck lays in the box is a ten-spot.  An’ as the papers is shoved forth, how do you-all reckon they falls!  I’m a Mexican! if they don’t come seven-king!  This Holliday wins all along; Cherokee is out thirty thousand an’ only three kyards showed!  How’s that for perishin’ flesh an’ blood!

“I looks at Cherokee; his face is as ca’m as a Injun’s; he’s too finely fibred a sport to so much as let a eyelash quiver.  This Holliday is equally onemotional.  Cherokee shoves over three yaller chips.

“’Call ’em ten thousand each,’ says Cherokee.  Then he waits for this Holliday to place his next bets.

“‘Since you-all has exackly that sum left in your treasury,’ observes this Holliday, puffin’ his seegyar, ’I reckons I’ll let one of these yaller tokens go, coppered, on the high kyard ag’in.  You-all doubles or breaks right yere.’

“The turn falls trey-eight.  Cherokee takes in that ten thousand dollar chip.

“‘Bein’s that I’m still playin’ on velvet,’ remarks this Holliday, an’ his tone is listless an’ languid like he’s only half interested, ’I’ll go twenty thousand on the high kyard, open.  This trip we omits the copper.’