Burning Daylight. Jack London

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СКАЧАТЬ out for bustin' harness."

      "Me for that same lady," accompanied MacDonald's markers for two thousand and for an additional thousand-dollar raise.

      It was at this stage that the players sat up and knew beyond peradventure that big hands were out. Though their features showed nothing, each man was beginning unconsciously to tense. Each man strove to appear his natural self, and each natural self was different. Hal Campbell affected his customary cautiousness.

      French Louis betrayed interest. MacDonald retained his whole-souled benevolence, though it seemed to take on a slightly exaggerated tone. Kearns was coolly dispassionate and noncommittal, while Elam Harnish appeared as quizzical and jocular as ever. Eleven thousand dollars were already in the pot, and the markers were heaped in a confused pile in the centre of the table.

      "I ain't go no more markers," Kearns remarked plaintively. "We'd best begin I.O.U.'s."

      "Glad you're going to stay," was MacDonald's cordial response.

      "I ain't stayed yet. I've got a thousand in already. How's it stand now?"

      "It'll cost you three thousand for a look in, but nobody will stop you from raising."

      "Raise-hell. You must think I got a pat like yourself." Kearns looked at his hand. "But I'll tell you what I'll do, Mac.

      "I've got a hunch, and I'll just see that three thousand."

      He wrote the sum on a slip of paper, signed his name, and consigned it to the centre of the table.

      French Louis became the focus of all eyes. He fingered his cards nervously for a space. Then, with a "By Gar! Ah got not one leetle beet hunch," he regretfully tossed his hand into the discards.

      The next moment the hundred and odd pairs of eyes shifted to Campbell.

      "I won't hump you, Jack," he said, contenting himself with calling the requisite two thousand.

      The eyes shifted to Harnish, who scribbled on a piece of paper and shoved it forward.

      "I'll just let you-all know this ain't no Sunday-school society of philanthropy," he said. "I see you, Jack, and I raise you a thousand. Here's where you-all get action on your pat, Mac."

      "Action's what I fatten on, and I lift another thousand," was MacDonald's rejoinder. "Still got that hunch, Jack?"

      "I still got the hunch." Kearns fingered his cards a long time. "And I'll play it, but you've got to know how I stand. There's my steamer, the Bella-worth twenty thousand if she's worth an ounce. There's Sixty Mile with five thousand in stock on the shelves. And you know I got a sawmill coming in. It's at Linderman now, and the scow is building. Am I good?"

      "Dig in; you're sure good," was Daylight's answer. "And while we're about it, I may mention casual that I got twenty thousand in Mac's safe, there, and there's twenty thousand more in the ground on Moosehide. You know the ground, Campbell. Is they that-all in the dirt?"

      "There sure is, Daylight."

      "How much does it cost now?" Kearns asked.

      "Two thousand to see."

      "We'll sure hump you if you-all come in," Daylight warned him.

      "It's an almighty good hunch," Kearns said, adding his slip for two thousand to the growing heap. "I can feel her crawlin' up and down my back."

      "I ain't got a hunch, but I got a tolerable likeable hand," Campbell announced, as he slid in his slip; "but it's not a raising hand."

      "Mine is," Daylight paused and wrote. "I see that thousand and raise her the same old thousand."

      The Virgin, standing behind him, then did what a man's best friend was not privileged to do. Reaching over Daylight's shoulder, she picked up his hand and read it, at the same time shielding the faces of the five cards close to his chest. What she saw were three queens and a pair of eights, but nobody guessed what she saw. Every player's eyes were on her face as she scanned the cards, but no sign did she give. Her features might have been carved from ice, for her expression was precisely the same before, during, and after. Not a muscle quivered; nor was there the slightest dilation of a nostril, nor the slightest increase of light in the eyes. She laid the hand face down again on the table, and slowly the lingering eyes withdrew from her, having learned nothing.

      MacDonald smiled benevolently. "I see you, Daylight, and I hump this time for two thousand. How's that hunch, Jack?"

      "Still a-crawling, Mac. You got me now, but that hunch is a rip-snorter persuadin' sort of a critter, and it's my plain duty to ride it. I call for three thousand. And I got another hunch: Daylight's going to call, too."

      "He sure is," Daylight agreed, after Campbell had thrown up his hand. "He knows when he's up against it, and he plays accordin'. I see that two thousand, and then I'll see the draw."

      In a dead silence, save for the low voices of the three players, the draw was made. Thirty-four thousand dollars were already in the pot, and the play possibly not half over. To the Virgin's amazement, Daylight held up his three queens, discarding his eights and calling for two cards. And this time not even she dared look at what he had drawn. She knew her limit of control. Nor did he look. The two new cards lay face down on the table where they had been dealt to him.

      "Cards?" Kearns asked of MacDonald.

      "Got enough," was the reply.

      "You can draw if you want to, you know," Kearns warned him.

      "Nope; this'll do me."

      Kearns himself drew two cards, but did not look at them.

      Still Harnish let his cards lie.

      "I never bet in the teeth of a pat hand," he said slowly, looking at the saloon-keeper. "You-all start her rolling, Mac."

      MacDonald counted his cards carefully, to make double sure it was not a foul hand, wrote a sum on a paper slip, and slid it into the pot, with the simple utterance:—

      "Five thousand."

      Kearns, with every eye upon him, looked at his two-card draw, counted the other three to dispel any doubt of holding more than five cards, and wrote on a betting slip.

      "I see you, Mac," he said, "and I raise her a little thousand just so as not to keep Daylight out."

      The concentrated gaze shifted to Daylight. He likewise examined his draw and counted his five cards.

      "I see that six thousand, and I raise her five thousand…just to try and keep you out, Jack."

      "And I raise you five thousand just to lend a hand at keeping Jack out," MacDonald said, in turn.

      His voice was slightly husky and strained, and a nervous twitch in the corner of his mouth followed speech.

      Kearns was pale, and those who looked on noted that his hand trembled as he wrote his slip. But his voice was unchanged.

      "I lift her along for five thousand," he said.

      Daylight was now the centre. The kerosene lamps above flung high lights from the rash of sweat on СКАЧАТЬ