Courtney, keeping the bank, dived ruefully into the box for his fourth stack of chips.

“There’s one thing I must say about Mort,” he dryly observed:  “he’s cheerful when he wins.”

“He can brag harder and louder than any man I ever heard,” admitted iron-faced Joe Close.

Colonel Bouncer, puffing out his red cheeks and snarling affectionately at his friend Washer, corroborated that statement emphatically.

“He’s bragged ever since he was a boy,” he stated.

“I always had something to brag about, didn’t I?” demanded Washer, his intemperate little pompadour bristling, and his waxed mustache as waspish as if he were really provoked.

“I don’t know,” objected the solemn-faced Courtney.  “I stung you for half a million on that hotel transaction.  Give me an ace, Joe.”

“Never!” snapped Morton Washer, picking up his cards as they fell.  “It was Johnny Gamble did that.  I open this pot right under the guns for the size of it and an extra sky-blue for luck.  None of you old spavins was ever able to get me single-handed.  A young fellow like Johnny Gamble—­that’s different.  It’s his turn.  You fellows are all afraid of my threes.”

“The others might be, so I’ll just help them stay out,” stated Courtney kindly as he doubled Washer’s bet.  “By the way, speaking of Johnny Gamble, he was very anxious to get you fellows out here to-day.  Now I want to give you some solemn advice, Colonel; you’d better keep away from this pot.”

“Bless my soul, I have a rotten hand!” confessed Colonel Bouncer, puffing his cheeks.  “But you old bluffers can’t drive me out of any place; so I’ll trail.”  And he measured up to Courtney’s stack.  “What’s Gamble’s scheme, Ben?”

“I’ll have to let Johnny tell you that himself,” responded Courtney as Johnny entered.  “Coming into this scramble, Joe?”

“I’m a cautious man,” hesitated Close, inspecting the faces of his companions with calm interest.  “I don’t think you or Mort have second cousins among your pasteboards, but the colonel is concealing his feelings too carefully.”  And he threw down his cards.

“You’re most unprofessional to say so,” growled the colonel.  “I suppose you won’t see that raise, Mort?”

“I’m not much interested,” returned Washer indifferently, “so I’ll just tilt it another stack.”  And he did so with beautiful carelessness.  “On general principles I’m very favorable to any enterprise Johnny Gamble offers.  Isn’t that so, Johnny?”

“I hope so,” replied Johnny with a laugh as he approached the table and, with perfectly blank eyes, looked down at the hand which Washer conspicuously held up to him.

Courtney cast only a fleeting glance at Johnny, whose face it would be impolite to read—­also impossible—­and concentrated his attention upon his old friend, Washer.

“You infernal scoundrel, I believe you have them,” he decided as Washer folded his cards into the palm of his hand again.