After a time there came a lull and the dealer raised his voice to entice new patrons.  Meanwhile, he paused to roll a cigarette the size of a wheat straw.  While thus engaged there sounded the hoarse blast of a steamer’s whistle in the offing and he turned his head.  Profiting by this instant of inattention a hand reached across the table and lifted one of the walnut-shells.  There was nothing under it.

“Five bucks on this one!” A soiled bill was placed beside one of the two remaining shells, the empty one.

Thus far Phillips had followed the pea unerringly, therefore he was amazed at the new better’s mistake.

The dealer turned back to his layout and winked at the bystanders, saying, “Brother, I’ll bet you ten more that you’ve made a bad bet.”  His offer was accepted.  Simultaneously Phillips was seized with an intense desire to beat this sharper at his own game; impulsively he laid a protecting palm over the shell beneath which he knew the little sphere to lie.

“I’ll pick this one,” he heard himself say.

“Better let me deal you a new hand,” the gambler suggested.

“Nothing of the sort,” a man at Phillips’ shoulder broke in.  “Hang on to that shell, kid.  You’re right and I’m going down for the size of his bankroll.”  The speaker was evidently a miner, for he carried a bulky pack upon his shoulders.  He placed a heavy palm over the back of Phillips’ hand, then extracted from the depths of his overalls a fat roll of paper money.

The size of this wager, together with the determination of its owner, appeared briefly to nonplus the dealer.  He voiced a protest, but the miner forcibly overbore it: 

“Say, I eat up this shell stuff!” he declared.  “It’s my meat, and I’ve trimmed every tinhorn that ever came to my town.  There’s three hundred dollars; you cover it, and you cover this boy’s bet, too.”  The fellow winked reassuringly at Phillips.  “You heard him say the sky was his limit, didn’t you?  Well, let’s see how high the sky is in these parts!”

There was a movement in the crowd, whereupon the speaker cried, warningly:  “Boosters, stand back!  Don’t try to give us the elbow, or I’ll close up this game!” To Pierce he murmured, confidentially:  “We’ve got him right.  Don’t let anybody edge you out.”  He put more weight upon Phillips’ hand and forced the young man closer to the table.

Pierce had no intention of surrendering his place, and now the satisfaction of triumphing over these crooks excited him.  He continued to cover the walnut-shell while with his free hand he drew his own money from his pocket.  He saw that the owner of the game was suffering extreme discomfort at this checkmate, and he enjoyed the situation.

“I watched you trim that farmer a few minutes ago,” Phillips’ companion chuckled.  “Now I’m going to make you put up or shut up.  There’s my three hundred.  I can use it when it grows to six.”

“How much are you betting?” the dealer inquired of Phillips.