Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

When Good Fellows Get Together constantly adding to the chips in front of him did not cause his mind to wander from the main issue. “Time for another drink,” stated Beers finally. ‘Better have one this time to cele- brate, MacDowell.” He squinted at the big stake of multi- colored chips piled in front of the Texan. His wide, thin mouth stretched into a grin that was meant to be humorous, but the cold blue eyes did not change expression. “No thanks,” returned Tex. ‘“‘And I was offering to lend you money before the game,”’ went on Beers as he poured three stiff drinks. The Mexican, who was behind the game by this time, appraised the flyer’s chips with an expert eye. “The lieutenant is vair-ry good at the game,” he stated with a quick smile. Searles tossed off his drink quickly, wiped his mouth on a huge khaki-colored handker- chief, and then said dryly— “Well, let’s gamble.” A knock on the door caused Beers swiftly to hide the whisky-bottle underneath the table. ( “T think it’s Ransom—the fellow who is here with me,’’ Tex said. ‘‘Mind if he comes in a minute?”’ “Sure,” replied Beers heartily. He raised his voice as he called— ‘““Come in.” (J RANSOM entered hesitantly. “Sit down and look on a while, Dave,” invited Tex, and a barely perceptible wink apprized Ransom that ‘something. was in the wind. Dave had pulled himself away from Natalie as quickly as was decently possible and the hotel clerk had told him where Tex was. He took a seat just behind MacDowell and watched the game silently. For a half-hour the play proceeded with scarcely a ripple. Tex was.over three hun- ‘dred dollars ahead, Beers perhaps half as much to the good. It came Beers’ deal. He was sitting on MacDowell’s left. As he fin- ished his shuffle and prepared to deal, his elbow knocked a stack of chips to the floor. - !? remarked Beers without heat as he bent down to pick them up. The Mexican leaned over at the same mo- ment and together they salvaged the chips. The table spoiled MacDowell’s view, but his suspicious mind leaped- to the conclu- 23 sion that it would be wise to watch the next hand closely. He lighted a cigaret noncha- lantly,* feeling Searles’ watchful eyes on him. He did not glance toward the other two, but turned to Ransom. “We haven’t had much action so far, Dave,” he said, his eyes boring into Ran- som’s. ‘‘Something’s due to break prety quick, though, I hope.” The Mexican shrugged his shoulders as Beers started the deal. “Vou nevair can tell,”’ he smiled. Searles picked up his cards without re- mark; he had not uttered a hundred words aside from calling his cards or announcing his bets, since the start of the evening. With Ransom leaning over his shoulder, Tex picked up his cards. Was it imagina- tion, or did the deck feel just a trifle smoother and fresher than before? He looked at his cards one by one, riffing them out slowly. Four aces stared him in the face. “That well-known act, ‘Lambie and the Wolves,’ has started,” Tex thought joyfully and one elbow lovingly touched the Colt .45 stuck deep in the waistband of his breeches, hidden effectively by his blouse. He didn’t know yet what he would do, but if worst came to worst the Colt would be a very present help in time of trouble. “Open, for ten,”’ announced the Mexican. ‘And fifty,” stated Searles laconically. He scratched his head with a stubby fore- finger, carefully smoothed down the sparse sandy hair that covered it and looked at. Tex expectantly. Tex lounged easily in his chair, but his mind was working like lightning. Unless he was badly mistaken, the deck had been switched while Beers and the Mexican were picking up the chips. There was only one hand that could beat him—a straight flush. Who would hold that hand and would it be. pat or not? If it were pat it would be too raw, decided the flyer as he riffled his hand thoughtfully and fingered his chips, appar- ently hesitating as to what todo. The room was silent as the grave. Ransom’s eyes were blazing, his face without color. The other three betrayed no signs of excitement,- nor did Tex himself. “T raise that a hundred,” he said finally and threw in his chips. “Action has arrived,” said Beers softly, his lined face a mask. ‘The ante goes up five hundred pesos on my hand.” Clo@@ oN ) CO C©