could not object, and once more we "swept the shin-plasters," as Chorley
euphoniously expressed it.

The stakes were again doubled, and possibly would have increased in the
same ratio again and again had I not made a positive objection. I
remembered the amount of cash I carried in my pocket, and knew that at
such a rate, should fortune go against us, my purse would not hold out.
I consented, however, to a stake of ten dollars each, and at this amount
we continued the play.

It was well we had not gone higher, for from this time fortune seemed to
desert us. We lost almost every time, and at the rate of ten dollars a
game. I felt my purse grow sensibly lighter. I was in a fair way of
being "cleared out."

My partner, hitherto so cool, seemed to lose patience, at intervals
anathematising the cards, and wishing he had never consented to a game
of "nasty whist." Whether it was this excitement that caused it I could
not tell, but certainly he played badly--much worse than at the
beginning. Several times he flung down his cards without thought or
caution. It seemed as if his temper, ruffled at our repeated losses,
rendered him careless, and even reckless, about the result. I was the
more surprised at this, as but an hour before at Euchre I had seen him
lose sums of double the amount apparently with the utmost indifference.

We had not bad luck neither. Each hand our cards were good; and several
times I felt certain we should have won, had my partner played his hand
more skilfully. As it was, we continued to lose, until I felt satisfied
that nearly half of my money was in the pockets of Hatcher and the
pork-dealer.

No doubt the whole of it would soon have found its way into the same
receptacles, had not our game been suddenly, and somewhat mysteriously,
interrupted.

Some loud words were heard--apparently from the lower deck--followed by
a double report, as of two pistols discharged in rapid succession, and
the moment after a voice called out, "Great God! there's a man shot!"

The cards fell from our fingers--each seized his share of the stakes,
springing to his feet as he did so; and then players, backers,
lookers-on, and all, making for front and side entrances, rushed
_pell-mell_ out of the saloon.

Some ran down stairs--some sprang up to the hurricane-deck--some took
aft, others forward, all crying out "Who is it?" "Where is he?" "Who
fired?" "Is he killed?" and a dozen like interrogatories, interrup