lessness. "I'll take my chances. Here, you gamin, I'll cover the
watch with two hundred dollars."

Without more ado the stakes were planked, the cards dealt, and the
game began.

The youth, whom we will call Ned Harris, was not idle.

He took the revolvers from the table, changed his position so that his
face was just in the opposite direction of what it had been, and
commenced to pare his finger nails. The fingers were as white and soft
as any girl's. In his hand he also held a strangely-angled little box,
the sides of which were mirror-glass. Looking at his finger-nails he
also looked into the mirror, which gave a complete view of the
card-sharp, as he sat at the table.

Swiftly progressed the game, and no one could fail to see how it was
going by watching the cunning light in the gambler's eye. At last the
game-card went down, and next instant, after the sharp had raked in
his stakes, a cocked revolver in either hand of Ned Harris covered the
hearts of the two players.

"Hello!" gasped Redburn, quailing under the gaze of a cold steel
tube--"what's the row, now?"

"Draw your revolver!" commanded Harris, sternly, having an eye on the
card-sharp at the same time, "Come! don't be all night about it!"

Redburn obeyed; he had no other choice.

"Cock it and cover your man!"

"Who do you mean?"

"The cuss under my left-hand aim."

Again the "pilgrim" felt that he could not afford to do otherwise than
obey.

So he took "squint" at the gambler's left breast after which Harris
withdrew the siege of his left weapon, although he still covered the
young Easterner, the same. Quietly he moved around to where the
card-sharp sat, white and trembling.

"Gentlemen!" he yelled, in a clear, ringing voice, "will some of you
step this way a moment?"

A crowd gathered around in a moment: then the youth resumed:

"Feller-citizens, all of you know how to play cards, no doubt. What is
the penalty of cheating, out here in the Hills?"

For a few seconds the room was wrapt in silence; then a chorus of
voices gave answer, using a single word:

"Death!"

"Exactly," said Harris, calmly. "When a sharp hides cards in Chinaman
fashion up his sleeve, I reckon that's what you call cheatin', don't
you?"

"That's the size of it," assented each bystander, grimly.

Ned Harris pressed his pistol-muzzle against the gambler's forehead,
inserted his fingers in each of the capacious sleeves, and a moment
later laid several high cards up