“Do it again,” said Beecher, admiringly; and once more Davis performed the dexterous feat. “It's a nick!” cried Beecher, examining the edge of the card minutely. “It ain't no such thing!” said Davis, angrily. “I'd give you ten years to find it out, and twenty to do it, and-you 'd fail in both.” “Let's see the dodge, Grog,” said Beecher, half-coaxingly. “You don't see _my_ hand till you put _yours_ on the table,” said Davis, fiercely. Then crossing his arms before him, and fixing his red fiery eyes on Beecher's face, he went on, “What do you mean by this fencing--just tell me what you mean by it?” “I don't understand you,” said Beecher, whose features were now of ashy paleness. “Then you shall understand me!” cried Davis, with an oath. “Do you want me to believe that Dunn had you to dine with him all alone, just to talk about politics, of which you know nothing, or books, of which you know less; that he 'd give you four precious hours of a Sunday evening to bear your opinions about men or women or things in general? Do you ask me to swallow that, sir?” “I ask you to swallow nothing,” stammered out Beecher, in whose heart pride and fear were struggling for the mastery. “I have told you what we spoke of. If anything else passed between us, perhaps it was of a private and personal nature; perhaps it referred to family topics; perhaps I might have given a solemn assurance not to reveal the subject of it to any one.” “You did,--did you?” said Davis, with a sneer. “I said, perhaps I might have done so. I did n't say I had.” “And so you think--you fancy--that you 're a going to double on me,” said Davis, rising, and advancing towards him with a sort of insulting menace. “Now, look here, my name ain't Davis but if ever you try it--try it, I say, because, as to doing it, I dare you to your face--but if you just try it, twelve hours won't pass over till the dock of a police court is graced by the Honorable Annesley Beecher on a charge of forgery.” “Oh, Davis!” cried Beecher, as he placed his hands over the other's lips, and glanced in terror through the room. “There never was anything I did n't tell you,--you 're the only man breathing that knows me.” “And I do know you, by Heaven, I do!” cried the other, savagely; “and I know you'd sneak out of my hands to-morrow, if you dared; but this I tell you, when you leave _mine_ it will be to exchange into the turnkey's. You fancy that because I see you are a fool that I don't suspect you to be a crafty one. Ah! what a mistake you make there!” “But listen to me, Grog,--just hear me.” “My name 's Davis, sir,--Captain Davis,--let me hear you call me anything else!”