"Glad to assist," he murmured, sinking into a vacant chair. "What
limit?"
"We have had no occasion to discuss that matter as yet," volunteered
Hawes, sneeringly. "However, if you have scruples we might settle upon
something within reason."
Hampton ran the undealt pack carelessly through his fingers, his lips
smiling pleasantly. "Oh, never mind, if it chances to go above my pile
I 'll drop out. Meanwhile, I hardly believe there is any cause for you
to be modest on my account."
The play opened quietly and with some restraint, the faces of the men
remaining impassive, their watchful glances evidencing nothing either
of success or failure. Hampton played with extreme caution for some
time, his eyes studying keenly the others about the table, seeking some
deeper understanding of the nature of his opponents, their strong and
weak points, and whether or not there existed any prior arrangement
between them. He was there for a purpose, a clearly defined purpose,
and he felt no inclination to accept unnecessary chances with the
fickle Goddess of Fortune. To one trained in the calm observation of
small things, and long accustomed to weigh his adversaries with care,
it was not extremely difficult to class the two strangers, and Hampton
smiled softly on observing the size of the rolls rather ostentatiously
exhibited by them. He felt that his lines had fallen in pleasant
places, and looked forward with serene confidence to the enjoyment of a
royal game, provided only he exercised sufficient patience and the
other gentlemen possessed the requisite nerve. His satisfaction was in
noways lessened by the sound of their voices, when incautiously raised
in anger over some unfortunate play. He immediately recognized them as
the identical individuals who had loudly and vainly protested over his
occupancy of the best rooms at the hotel. He chuckled grimly.
But what bothered him particularly was Slavin. The cool gray eyes,
glancing with such apparent negligence across the cards in his hands,
noted every slight movement of the red-bearded gambler, in expectation
of detecting some sign of trickery, or some evidence that he had been
selected by this precious trio for the purpose of easy plucking.
Knavery was Slavin's style, but apparently he was now playing a
straight game, no doubt realizing clearly, behind his impassive mask of
a face, the utter futility of seeking to outwit one of Hampton's
enviable reputation.
It was, unquestionably, a fairly fought four-handed battle, and at
last, thoroughly convinced of this, Hampton settled quietly down,
prepared to play out his game. The hours rolled on unnoted, the men
tireless, their faces immovable, the cards dealt silently. The stakes
grew steadily larger, and curious visitors, hearing vague rumors
without, ventured in, to stand behind the chairs of the absorbed
players and look on. Now and then a startled exclamation evidenced the
depth of their interest and excitement, but at the table no one spoke
above a strained whisper, and no eye ventured to wander from the board.
Several times drinks were served, but Hampton contented himself with a
gulp of water, always gripping an unlighted cigar between his teeth.
He was playing now with apparent recklessness, never hesitating over a
card, his eye as watchful as that of a hawk, his betting quick,
confident, audacious. The contagion of his spirit seemed to affect the
others, to force them into desperate wagers, and thrill the lookers-on.
The perspiration was beading Slavin's forehead, and now and then an
oath burst unrestrained from his hairy lips. Hawes and Willis sat
white-faced, bent forward anxiously over the table, their fingers
shaking as they handled the fateful cards, but Hampton played without
perceptible tremor, his utterances few and monosyllabic, his calm face
betraying not the faintest emotion.