d at my little brown girl, and touched her shoulder.
I was across the deck, the girl coming to me with food. I said to him:
'No. She's mine, Quint.' And he looked at me, and I beat him with my
eyes. And as his turned from mine, Fetcher and his woman came on deck,
and Quint tapped Fetcher, and said to him: 'What will you take for her?'

"Fetcher laughed at him; and Quint scowled. And I--for I was minded to
see sport, came across to them and said: 'Play for her. Play for her!'

"Fetcher was willing; because he had the blood that gambles anything.
Quint was willing, because he was the better player. They sat down to the
game, in the cabin, after supper. Poker. Cold hands. Nine of them. Winner
of five to win....

"Fetcher got two, lost four, got two more. I was dealing. Card by card,
face upward. I remember those hands. And my little brown girl, and the
other, watching from the corner.

"The hands on the table grew, card by card. Fetcher got an ace, Quint a
deuce. Fetcher a queen, Quint a seven. Fetcher a jack, Quint a six.
Fetcher a ten, Quint a ten. Only the last card to come to each. If
Fetcher paired any card, he would win. His card came first. It was a
seven. He was ace, queen high. Quint had deuce, six, seven, ten. He had
to get a pair to win....

"I saw Quint's hand stir, beneath the table; and I glimpsed a knife in
it. But before I could speak, or stir, Fetcher dropped his own hand to
his trouser leg, and I knew he kept a blade there.... So I laughed, and
dealt Quint's last card....

"A deuce. He had a pair, enough to win....

"He leaned back, laughing grimly; and Fetcher's knife went in beneath the
left side of his jaw, where the jugular lies. Quint looked surprised, and
got up out of his chair and lay down quietly across the table. I heard
the bubbling of his last breath.... Then Fetcher laughed, and called his
woman, and they took Quint on deck and tipped him overside. The knife had
been well thrown. Fetcher had barely moved his wrist.... I was much
impressed with the little man, and told my brown girl so. But she was
frightened, and I comforted her."

He was silent again for a time, pressing the hot ashes in his pipe with
his thumb. The water slapped the broad stern of the ship beneath them,
and Joel's pipe was gurgling. There was no other sound. Little Priss,
nails biting her palms, thought she would stream if the silence held an
instant more....

But Mark laughed softly, and went on.

"Fetcher and