The young man seemed a little dazed by the quick change of the gambler's luck, but his reason had no voice to speak against the clamor of his desires. He produced more money, bills of large denomination, and counted out a thousand dollars, defiantly flourishing every bill. He whacked the pile down on the table with a foolishly arrogant thump of his fist. "I'm with you to the finish," he said, his boyish face bright with the destructive fire of chance. "Roll 'em out!" Other players crowded forward, believing perhaps that the queer freak of fortune which had turned the gambler's luck would not hold. In a few minutes there was more money on the table than the one-eyed man had stood before in many a day. Sorry for the foolish young man, and moved by the sacrifice which he saw in preparation, Dr. Slavens pressed against the table, trying to flash the youth a warning with his eyes. But the physician could not get a look into the young man's flushed face; his eyes were on the stake. The one-eyed man was gabbing again, running out a continual stream of cheap and pointless talk, and offering the dice as usual for inspection. Some looked at the cubes, among the number the young man, who weighed them in his palm and rolled them on the table several times. Doubtless they were as straight as dice ever were made. This test satisfied the rest. The one-eyed man swept the cubes into his hand and, still talking, held that long, bony member hovering over the mouth of the box. At that moment Dr. Slavens, lurching as if shoved violently from behind, set his shoulder against the table and pushed it, hard and suddenly, against the one-eyed man's chest, all but throwing him backward against the wall of the tent. The gambler's elbows flew up in his struggle to keep to his feet, and the hand that hovered over the dicebox dropped the dice upon the board. Instantly a shout went up; instantly half a hundred hands clawed at the table to retrieve their stakes. For the one-eyed man had dropped not five dice, but ten. He waited for no further developments. The tent-wall parted behind him as he dived through into the outer darkness, taking with him his former winnings and his "bank," which had been cunningly arranged on the green cloth for no other purpose; his revolver and his dice, leaving nothing but the box behind. The young man gathered up his stake with nervous hands and turned his flushed face to the doctor, smiling foolishly. "Thank you, old man," he said. "Oh, yes! I know you now," he added, offering his hand with great warmth. "You were with her people at the dance." "Of course," smiled the doctor. "How much did you lose?" "Say, I ought to have a nurse!" said the young man abjectly. "If you hadn't heaved that table into the old devil's ribs just then he'd 'a' skinned me right! Oh, about six hundred, I guess; but in ten minutes more he'd 'a' cleaned me out. Walker's my name," he confided; "Joe Walker. I'm from Cheyenne." Dr. Slavens introduced himself.