a Scotchman, McKeever; the other was a Jew, Simonds. But in looks they
were as much alike as two peas out of one pod. They hated each other
with silent, smiling hatred, because they knew that they were on trial
for their fortunes.

Tonight the Jew, Simonds, was dealing at one of the tables, and the
Scotchman, McKeever, stood at the side of the master of the house, ready
to execute his commissions. Now and again his dark eyes wandered toward
the table where the Jew sat, with the cards flashing through his
fingers. McKeever hungered to be there on the firing line! How he wished
he could feel that sifting of the polished cardboard under his finger
tips. They were playing Black Jack. He noted the smooth skill with which
Simonds buried a card. And yet the trick was not perfectly done. Had he,
McKeever, been there--

At this point he was interrupted by the easy, oily voice of M. Fernand.
"This is an infernal nuisance!"

McKeever raised his eyebrows and waited for an explanation. Two young
men, very young, very straight, had just come into the rooms. One he
knew to be Jerry Smith.

"Another table and dealer wasted," declared M. Fernand. "Smith--and, by
heavens, he's brought some friend of his with him!"

"Shall I see if I can turn them away without playing?" asked McKeever.

"No, not yet. Smith is a friend of John Mark. Don't forget that. Never
forget, McKeever, that the friends of John Mark must be treated with
gloves--always!"

"Very good," replied McKeever, like a pupil memorizing in class.

"I'll see how far I can go with them," went on M. Fernand. He went
straight to the telephone and rang John Mark.

"How far should I go with them?" he asked, after he had explained that
Smith had just come in.

"Is there someone with him?" asked John Mark eagerly.

"A young chap about the same age--very brown."

"That's the man I want!"

"The man you want?"

"Fernand," said Mark, without explaining, "those youngsters have gone
out there to make some money at your expense."

M. Fernand growled. "I wish you'd stop using me as a bank, Mark," he
complained. "Besides, it costs a good deal."

"I pay you a tolerable interest, I believe," said John Mark coldly.

"Of course, of course! Well"--this in a manner of great
resignation--"how much shall I let them take away?"

"Bleed them both to death if you want. Let them play on credit. Go as
far as you like."

"Very well," said Fernand, "but--"

"I may be out there later,