They watched him deal with the
uncanny skill of a conjurer before Jack Cooper answered.
"That's Aleck McTurpin from Australia. Thought you knew him."
"One of the Sydney coves?"
"Not quite so loud," the other cautioned hastily. "They call him
that--behind his back. But who's to tell? I'd like to get the lad out of
his clutches well enough."
"Think I'll watch the game," Potts said, and sauntered to the table. He
laid a friendly hand on Windham's shoulder. Benito's pile of coin was
nearly gone. McTurpin dealt. It was a jack-pot, evidently, for a heavy
stake of gold and silver was upon the center of the board. Benito's hand
shook as he raised his cards. He reached forth and refilled his glass,
gulping the contents avidly.
"Dos cartos," he replied in Spanish to the dealer's inquiry. Potts
glanced at the three cards which Benito had retained. Each was a king.
The young man eyed his first draw with a slight frown and seemed to
hesitate before he lifted up the second. Then a little sucking gasp came
from his throat.
"Senor," he began as McTurpin eyed him curiously, "I have little left to
wager. Luck has been my enemy of late. Yet," he smiled a trembling
little smile, "I hold certain cards which give me confidence.
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