Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 31: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE DUKE AND THE DUCATS excitement in a card game. The players were stooped over the table, and Derringer, especially, seemed as though he were drawn to the game by terrific magnetic attraction which would not let him leave although he should want to. The clatter of: the crowded room, the noise from below, the drone of the swarming streets—all were forgotten by the young flyer as he mapped out his plan of campaign. Tex MacDowell was right on the spot. “Derringer’s leaving, it’s getting late, so let’s make this pot a good one,” he drawled, his voice vibrant. “Up a thousand.” “And two,” Daly said unemotionally. Harris’ opaque black eyes darted toward Donnelly. “T ain’t backin’ down,” he said huskily. “And five, if that’s the way you feel.” MacDowell studied his cards. “T don’t mind admitting Pve got all Pm ever going to get,” he said nonchalantly. “Tl just stay, I guess.” “Not me. The size of your stack, Harris,” said the Duke. Harris threw away his cigaret and lighted another in two lightning like movements. “O.K.” Daly looked over at MacDowell. Did the Texan plumb his plan? Of course he would stay. He must— He did. The Duke pushed his chair back slightly. His eyes were on Donnelly. There were two possibilities in Harris’ hand. One that he had an unbeatable pat hand, and had passed in the full knowledge that Tex would open. This seemed scarcely believable. There was no object in disguising his hand, and it would be suspicious for the second player to pass up a pat hand for a raise. It seemed more likely, in every way, that he had a hand he would have to fill. “T was just taking a ride,” Daly said easily, his eyes on Donnelly’s pasty face. With a quick movement he thrust his _ hand into the deck. He had not been the opener. 25 “Give me five cards.” Donnelly’s mouth sagged open and his face seemed to go a greenish white. There was a grunt from Derringer, as though somebody had hurt him cruelly and he was trying to disguise his pain. Harris’ eyes raised, and they glittered like a snake’s. A sigh escaped him. It was as though the table was surrounded by images, each eye concentrated on the blond young man from whose sculptured face there looked forth those eyes of long experience and cold competence. “Deal ’em, Donnelly,’ he said in low tones, and his right hand was at his side, where the Army holster swung. Donnelly, for the moment, was not the experienced gambler. His hand shook. Without removing his eyes from Daly’s he slowly dealt five cards. “One,” whispered Harris. He scarcely bothered to look at it. “Stand pat,” stated Tex. “On a ten full.” Daly looked at his cards. The blood was running hot through his veins. The next move he knew not, but across the table was the man who, from all the world, he would have picked to be by his side in an emergency like this. His first two. cards were the fourth king and nine of hearts. Then there was the ace of hearts. He knew he had won. Had he drawn but one card to his threes, he would have filled, and the nine of hearts would have filled the bottom of Harris’ open end straight flush. If he drew two, Harris would have got the ace of hearts, which would also have filled his hand. : “Take all the money,” Harris said, as though baffled. The table was looking at Daly as though he were some freak of nature. Their knowledge of the plot showed plainly—they did not notice Tex. As that gentleman scooped in the money—: fifteen thousand dollars of it from their enemies—Daly’s eyes roved to Der- ringer’s. There was what amounted to chilly admiration there. ; But not in Donnelly’s. It seemed that comnlicloooks.com