Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

When Good Fellows Get Together Hickman riffled his cards thoughtfully. “T’ve been stuck on these four-card straights and flushes so often I’m scared of ’em,”’ he remarked plaintively, ‘‘but I guess T’ll ride for the eight berries.” And he deposited a blue and three reds in the center. “ “Tie that little bull outside,’ ”’? hummed Tex with dancing eyes. “Gentlemen, if I hit I’ve got a world-beater, so we hereby make the emolument total twenty-five dollars. Make a good hand pay dividends, dad used to tell me!” Mills, who had passed three kings under the gun, changed from carefully hidden ex- ultation to deep thoughtfulness. “T guess I’ll just ride,”’ he announced. - “Thought you were laying back with a club, Pete,” remarked Tex. “Why didn’t you raise as you planned to?” ‘“‘Raise?” said Miller in careful horror. “TI wouldn’t even stay if I wasn’t a sport!”’ “If you stayed for sport, John D. Rocke- feller is the next Olympic champion,” Binder told him. “I’m out. Queens opened.” Ransom, a reckless light in his eyes, threw in enough chips to make his twenty-five. Aickman considered sadly and finally came “That four-carder is looking better, eh George?” laughed Tex, and then looked speculatively at Ransom’s flushed coun- tenance. “Cards, if any,” he said to Miller, the while he was thinking— “The kid’s got a —— of a lot or else nothing.” “Two,” replied Miller. Ransom took the same number, and Hickman, amid a chorus of groans, stood pat. “One to the dealer,’’ Tex announced. “Fours!” groaned Hickman. “Tt would serve you right for being so de- ceitful,’”’ replied Tex, laying his card care- fully on top of the four he had kept. He had not seen it—didn’t want to for a while. His eyes were sparkling with deviltry, for it was precisely the kind of situation he loved. The playing of a hand like that was meat and drink to him. | “T guess the bet is up to you, Ransom,”’ he said. Dave reached for his chips, and then stopped. His face was pale and strained. “T guess I’ll check to the pat hand,” he said with an attempt at nonchalance. 9 Captain Kennard, who had been playing bridge, came over behind Tex to watch. The other bridge-players, by common con- sent, moved toward the game. A big pot was in the offing. “Hum. Reached for his stack and then checked,’’ Hickman reflected aloud. ‘‘You’re either a good bluffer or you’ve got a whale of a hand, Ransom. Drew two— fours, full house, or else nothing to amount to much. Well, I’ll feel the pot out with twenty-five.” ‘‘And a hundred,” said Tex, counting out a stack of blues, which were valued at five dollars. Miller tossed in his hand silently. With every eye fastened on him Ransom took out a check-book, figured a moment and then in a voice he strove to keep calm said— | “I’m writing a check for three hundred— all I’ve got.” His eyes were on MacDowell, blazing de- fiantly. As had been plain all through the game, he was out to get Tex, but what did he have? Hickman was forgotten—all eyes were on Tex. Hickman threw down his hand as Tex swiftly looked at his cards. “Micht have caught a fifth one,” he grinned in explanation. He was the only man in the room who was calm and as he sat there with that little devil dancing in his eyes it was impossible to conceive of him as anything but victor. That was precisely the impression he gave in anything he was doing. Lounging easily in his chair, he studied Ransom for a moment. “You win a pot, Ransom,” he drawled. “And I need a drink.” Captain Kennard could not repress a start. When Tex arose the captain swiftly picked up his hand to verify what he had seen. As the excited, triumphant Ransom showed only aces and jacks, the captain’s eyes met MacDowell’s over the heads of the others. Tex had laid down a straight flush. ‘“‘The kid hates me,’’ he explained later to the C. O., “and I knew he was betting wild just to get me. I didn’t want to break him. Tl tell you the whole story some time, maybe. I hope he’ll get over his fool- ishness and quit acting young, though. He’s making a mountain out of a mole-hill. Good night, sir.” The captain’s eyes were luminous with COmicloo \ ) ©