“Well, I’ve got this, and you may have it—if you can win it,” said Bunker, with drunken swagger. “Shall I come in?” “What do you say, Mr. Diamond?” asked Welch, speaking to Jack. “Dunno’s I care a rap,” said the Virginian, thickly. “His money’s good’s anybody’s.” Frank started, astounded. “Diamond has been drinking!” was his first thought. “By Jove! the fellow is half drunk!” Nothing could have astonished Merriwell more, for Diamond was not a hard drinker; in fact, was not a steady drinker, although he sometimes took a little beer or wine. Now, however, he was somewhat intoxicated, which explained how he happened to be playing poker with a lot of strangers. It was growing dark. Welch got up and lighted a lamp within the cottage, saying: “I don’t think there is any real objection to letting you into the game, Mr. Bunker; but the size of it may not suit you.” “What’s the limit?” asked Bunker. “A dollar—ten cents ante.” This was another surprise for Frank. It was evident the limit and the ante had been raised since Browning left. “Five dollars would be better,” said Bunker. “Let’s make it that. Tell you I’ve got money to burn. You fellers may as well have some of it for kindling. What say?” “We’ll have a drink all round,” said Welch, producing a bottle and glasses. The drinks were poured and taken, and then, after a brief discussion, it was decided to raise the limit to five dollars and let Bunker into the game. The fellow who had raised the first objection stood out the longest, but he finally gave in. Diamond lighted a cigar. He had a pile of money before him, as they were not playing with chips. Soon the game was running again. Back of the cottage a brief consultation was held by Jack’s three friends, and then Merriwell again peered through the knot hole. He quickly grew interested, for a large jack pot was on the table, and there was brisk betting before the draw. Four of the seven remained “in.” They were the stranger who had objected to Bunker, Diamond, Welch and Bunker himself. Bunker was dealing. Frank watched every move, and he quickly detected the fact that Bunker was “clever.” The man was holding back the top cards as the proper ones came up, and he gave three thus held back to Welch, who was drawing to a pair. “That is enough!” whispered Merriwell, grimly, as he drew back. “It’s a skin game! We must get in before this hand is played out.” Round the cottage to the door they went. “We won’t stop to knock,” said Browning. “Stand aside!” With a rush, he hurled himself against the door, which flew open with a smash and a slam. Into the room went the big college man, followed by Merriwell and Hodge. The front room was empty. As Bruce paused a moment, Frank sprang past him, crying: “Come on!” He rushed into the back room, where the game was taking place. The gamblers were hastily rising to their feet and gathering up their money, thinking they were raided by officers. They were filled with consternation.