On the third recurrence of this phenomenon Pete glanced carelessly at his watch before picking up his hand, and saw in the polished back a tiny reflection from the wall behind him—­a small horizontal panel, tilted transomwise, and a peering face.  Pete scanned his hand; when he picked up his watch to restore it to his pocket, the peering face was gone and the panel had closed again.

Boland, sitting beside Johnson, saw nothing of this.  Neither did the lumbermen, though they were advantageously situated on the opposite side of the table.  Pete played on, with every sense on the alert.  He knocked over a pile of chips, spilling some on the floor; when he stooped over to get them, he slipped his gun from his waistband and laid it in his lap.  His curiosity was aroused.

At length, on Dewing’s deal, Johnson picked up three kings before the draw.  He sat at Dewing’s left; it was his first chance to open the pot; he passed.  Dewing coughed; Johnson felt again that current of cold air on his neck.  “This must be the big mitt,” thought Pete.  “In a square game there’d be nothing unusual in passing up three kings for a raise—­that is good poker.  But Dewing wants to be sure I’ve got ’em.  Are they going to slide me four kings?  I reckon not.  It isn’t considered good form to hold four aces against four kings.  They’ll slip me a king-full, likely, and some one will hold an ace-full.”

Obligingly Pete spread his three kings fanwise, for the convenience of the onlooker behind the panel.  So doing, he noted that he held the kings of hearts, spades, and diamonds, with the queen and jack of diamonds.  He slid queen and jack together.  “Two aces to go with this hand would give me a heap of confidence,” he thought.  “I’m going to take a long chance.”

Boland passed; the first lumberman opened the pot; the second stayed; Dewing stayed; Pete stayed, and raised.  Boland passed out; the first lumberman saw the raise.

“I ought to lift this again; but I won’t,” announced the lumberman.  “I want to get Scotty’s money in this pot, and I might scare him out.”

Scotty, the second lumberman, hesitated for a moment, and then laid down his hand, using language.  Dewing saw the raise.

“Here’s where I get a cheap draw for the Dead Man’s Hand—­aces and eights.”  He discarded two and laid before him, face up on the table, a pair of eights and an ace of hearts.  “I’m going to trim you fellows this time.  Aces and eights have never been beaten yet.”

“Damn you!  Here’s one eight you won’t get,” said Scotty; he turned over his hand, exposing the eight of clubs.

“Mustn’t expose your cards unnecessarily,” said Dewing reprovingly.  “It spoils the game.”  He picked up the deck.  “Cards?”

Pete pinched his cards to the smallest compass and cautiously discarded two of them, holding their faces close to the table.

“Give me two right off the top.”

Dewing complied.