cents in his pocket. That silver quarter represented the entire
capital of the Boy Settlers from Kansas. Looking up, he saw Charlie
regarding him with reproachful eyes from a corner of the saloon. With
great carefulness, he gathered up his cards and rose, revolving in his
mind the awful problem of paying for seventy-five cents' worth of
cards with twenty-five cents.

"Well, you've got yourself into a nice scrape," tragically whispered
Charlie, in his ear, as soon as the two boys were out of earshot of
the others. "What are you going to do now? You can spar your way down
to St. Louis, but you can't spar your way with that barkeeper for a
pack of cards."

"Let me alone, Charlie," said Sandy, testily. "You haven't got to pay
for these cards. I'll manage it somehow. Don't you worry yourself the
least bit."

"Serves you right for gambling. What would mother say if she knew it?
If you hadn't been so ready to show off your whist-playing before
these strangers, you wouldn't have got into such a box."

"I didn't gamble," replied Sandy, hotly. "It isn't gambling to play a
hand to see who shall pay for the cards. All men do that. I have seen
daddy roll a game of tenpins to see who should pay for the alley."

"I don't care for that. It is gambling to play for the leastest thing
as a stake. Nice fellow you are, sitting down to play a hand of
seven-up for the price of a pack of cards! Six bits at that!"

"A nice brotherly brother you are to nag me about those confounded
cards, instead of helping a fellow out when he is down on his luck."

Charlie, a little conscience-stricken, held his peace, while Sandy
broke away from him, and rushed out into the chilly air of the
after-deck. There was no sympathy in the dark and murky river, none in
the forlorn shore, where rows of straggling cottonwoods leaned over
and swept their muddy arms in the muddy water. Looking around for a
ray of hope, a bright idea struck him. He could but try one chance.
The bar of the "New Lucy" was a very respectable-looking affair, as
bars go. It opened into the saloon cabin of the steamer on its inner
side, but in the rear was a small window where the deck passengers
sneaked up, from time to time, and bought whatever they wanted, and
then quietly slipped away again, unseen by the more "high-toned"
passengers in the cabin. Summoning all his courage and assurance, the
boy stepped briskly to this outside opening, and, leaning his arms
jauntily on the window-l