I curls my fingers over the box, snaps her across an’ back again.  The len’th of the table they rolled.  Three sixes—­fifty-one.  ‘Mong doo,’ yells ol’ Antone—­’Sankantoon—­not since fifteen year do I see such play.’  Well, for another hour they rolled, but that fifty-one was still high-line.  I took him away.  And alongside this lad when we have him to-morrow, Archie, there’ll be a special bottle o’ wine—­some red-colored wine.  I don’t know the name of it.  Good stuff, though, and ol’ Antone gave it to me—­a special bottle.”

“An’ well he might arter all the money you spent there, Sammie.”

“An’ why not there as well as the next place?  Why not there as well as here?  Why not?” Sam glared down to the end of the bar, where Argand himself was taking in the cash, and his eyes, roaming round the room, caught mine and he winked.  “A gen’l’man, ol’ Antone, which every caffy keeper ain’t—­an’ because he’s a gen’l’man, and because some others ain’t—­” Sam looked around to see if Argand was getting that—­“because some others ain’t—­because some others ain’t, I say—­an’ I could name ’em, too, if I wanted—­I could, yes.”

I caught another flash from Sam’s eyes, and, looking where his eyes pointed, I saw my Aurora captain and three or four of his crew, who had just come in.

“Name him, Sammie—­name him,” urged Gillis.  “Name the cross-breeded dog-fish—­name ’im, Sammie, name ’im.”

All this was foolish enough, perhaps, but not to Henri Argand, who ran this place.  He didn’t have reputation enough to be able to stand off and laugh at Sammie and Archie—­probably not—­for by and by, with four or five helpers, he comes with a rush and in ten seconds it was a mix-up.  Sam and Gillis put their backs to the bar and gave battle.  There were only the two of them, and the turkey, at first.  A great bird a turkey—­especially when you swing him by the ankles.  Down went a waiter, and down went another waiter.  Sam made a couple of tremendous swipes, and then down went the Aurora’s captain and one of his crew.  The Aurora’s captain’s head, I thought, would be knocked clean off, the way the turkey hit him.  Then over went a row of French stokers, and, with a back-handed sweep of the turkey, down went the bartender behind.  And Sam and Archie, I could see, were working over to finish the Aurora’s new crew, and would’ve got ’em, too, but Argand, inside the bar, picks up a bung-starter, sneaks down and gives Sam and Archie a couple of slick taps over the ear, and down they went—­just slid feet first away from the bar and on to the floor, flat—­and as they slid Argand reaches over and grabs the turkey out of Sam’s hand.

[Illustration:  Sam made a couple of tremendous swipes, and then down went the Aurora’s captain and one of his crew]