"I am in Benton to win," I valiantly asserted. "And if under your direction, so much the quicker. What first, then? The three-card monte?" "It is the simplest. Faro would be beyond you yet. Rondo coolo is boisterous and confusing--and as for poker, that is a long session of nerves, while chuck-a-luck, though all in the open, is for children and fools. You might throw the dice a thousand times and never cast a lucky combination. Roulette is as bad. The percentage in favor of the bank in a square game is forty per cent. better than stealing. I'll initiate you on monte. Are your eyes quick?" "For some things," I replied meaningly. She conducted me to the nearest monte game, where the "spieler"--a smooth-faced lad of not more than nineteen--sat behind his three-legged little table, green covered, and idly shifting the cards about maintained a rather bored flow of conversational incitement to bets. As happened, he was illy patronized at the moment. There were not more than three or four onlookers, none risking but all waiting apparently upon one another. At our arrival the youth glanced up with the most innocent pair of long-lashed brown eyes that I ever had seen. A handsome boy he was. "Hello, Bob." He smiled, with white teeth. "Hello yourself." My Lady and he seemed to know each other. "How goes it to-night, Bob?" "Slow. There's no nerve or money in this camp any more. She's a dead one." "I'll not have Benton slandered," My Lady gaily retorted. "We'll buck your game, Bob. But you must be easy on us. We're green yet." Bob shot a quick glance at me--in one look had read me from hat to boots. He had shrewder eyes than their first languor intimated. "Pleased to accommodate you, I'm sure," he answered. "The greenies stand as good a show at this board as the profesh." "Will you play for a dollar?" she challenged. "I'll play for two bits, to-night. Anything to start action." He twisted his mouth with ready chagrin. "I'm about ripe to bet against myself." She fumbled at her reticule, but I was beforehand. "No, no." And I fished into my pocket. "Allow me. I will furnish the funds if you will do the playing." "I choose the card?" said she. "That is up to you, sir. You are to learn." "By watching, at first," I protested. "We should be partners." "Well," she consented, "if you say so. Partners it is. A lady brings luck, but I shall not always do your playing for you, sir. That kind of partnership comes to grief." "I am hopeful of playing on my own score, in due time," I responded. "As you will see." "What's the card, Bob? We've a dollar on it, as a starter." He eyed her, while facing the cards up. "The ace. You see it--the ace, backed by ten and deuce. Here it is. All ready?" He turned them down, in order; methodically, even listlessly moved them to and fro, yet with light, sure, well-nigh bewildering touch. Suddenly lifted his hands. "All set. A dollar you don't face up the ace at first try." She laughed, bantering.