s game with men, I must play like a man_.

"_A good curse, rightly used and rarely, is an efficient thing. Too many
curses spoil the cursing. Note: A curse cannot change a card seguence
nor cause the wind to blow._

"_There is no license for a man to be less than a man. Ten thousand
pounds cannot purchase such a license._"

At the beginning of the reading Deacon's face had gone white with anger.
Then had arisen, from neck to forehead, a slow and terrible flush that
deepened to the end of the reading.

"There, that will be all," Grief said, as he folded the paper and tossed
it to the centre of the table. "Are you still ready to play the game?"

"I deserve it," Deacon muttered brokenly. "I've been an ass. Mr. Gee,
before I know whether I win or lose, I want to apologize. Maybe it was
the whiskey, I don't know, but I'm an ass, a cad, a bounder--everything
that's rotten."

He held out his hand, and the half-caste took it beamingly.

"I say, Grief," he blurted out, "the boy's all right. Call the whole
thing off, and let's forget it in a final nightcap."

Grief showed signs of debating, but Deacon cried:

"No; I won't permit it. I'm not a quitter. If it's Karo-Karo, it's
Karo-Karo. There's nothing more to it."

"Right," said Grief, as he began the shuffle. "If he's the right stuff
to go to Karo-Karo, Karo-Karo won't do him any harm."

The game was close and hard. Three times they divided the deck between
them and "cards" was not scored. At the beginning of the fifth and
last deal, Deacon needed three points to go out, and Grief needed four.
"Cards" alone would put Deacon out, and he played for "cards". He no
longer muttered or cursed, and played his best game of the evening.
Incidentally he gathered in the two black aces and the ace of hearts.

"I suppose you can name the four cards I hold," he challenged, as the
last of the deal was exhausted and he picked up his hand.

Grief nodded.

"Then name them."

"The knave of spades, the deuce of spades, the tray of hearts, and the
ace of diamonds," Grief answered.

Those behind Deacon and looking at his hand made no sign. Yet the naming
had been correct.

"I fancy you play casino better than I," Deacon acknowledged. "I can
name only three of yours, a knave, an ace, and big casino."

"Wrong. There aren't five aces in the deck. You've taken in three and
you hold the fourth in your hand now."

"By Jove, you're right," Deacon admitted. "I did scoop in three. Anywa