The gambler passed on, pushing rather unceremoniously through the
throng of perspiring humanity. He appeared out of place amid the rough
element jostling him, and more than one glanced at him curiously, a few
swearing as he elbowed them aside. Scarcely noticing this, he drew a
cigar from his pocket, and stuck it unlighted between his teeth. The
large front room upstairs was ablaze with lights, every game in full
operation and surrounded by crowds of devotees. Tobacco smoke in
clouds circled to the low ceiling, and many of the players were noisy
and profane, while the various calls of faro, roulette, keno, and
high-ball added to the confusion and to the din of shuffling feet and
excited exclamations. Hampton glanced about superciliously, shrugging
his shoulders in open contempt--all this was far too coarse, too small,
to awaken his interest. He observed the various faces at the tables--a
habit one naturally forms who has desperate enemies in plenty--and then
walked directly toward the rear of the room. A thick, dingy red
curtain hung there; he held back its heavy folds and stepped within the
smaller apartment beyond.
Three men sat at the single table, cards in hand, and Hampton
involuntarily whistled softly behind his teeth at the first glimpse of
the money openly displayed before them. This was apparently not so bad
for a starter, and his waning interest revived. A red-bearded giant,
sitting so as to face the doorway, glanced up quickly at his entrance,
his coarse mouth instantly taking on the semblance of a smile.
"Ah, Bob," he exclaimed, with an evident effort at cordiality; "been
wondering if you wouldn't show up before the night was over. You're
the very fellow to make this a four-handed affair, provided you carry
sufficient stuff."
Hampton came easily forward into the full glow of the swinging oil
lamp, his manner coolly deliberate, his face expressionless. "I feel
no desire to intrude," he explained, quietly, watching the uplifted
faces. "I believe I have never before met these gentlemen."
Slavin laughed, his great white fingers drumming the table.
"It is an acquaintance easily made," he said, "provided one can afford
to trot in their class, for it is money that talks at this table
to-night. Mr. Hampton, permit me to present Judge Hawes, of Denver,
and Mr. Edgar Willis, president of the T. P. & R. I have no idea what
they are doing in this hell-hole of a town, but they are dead-game
sports, and I have been trying my best to amuse them while they're
here."
Hampton bowed, instantly recognizing the names.