“What’s this talk about beating and shooting?” interrupted one of the members. “It’s fine talk to hear in these rooms! Drop it! If we have any one in the club who can’t take an honorable defeat in a square contest of any sort, it’s time that person took himself out of our ranks. I reckon that is straight enough.” “Quite straight enough, Mr. Robbins,” bowed Darleton; “but it doesn’t touch me. I can stand defeat; but I am seldom satisfied with one trial. The first trial may be for sport, but with me the second is for blood.” Having said this, he wheeled and stalked out of the room. “We’ll never have peace in this club while he continues to be a member,” asserted Hugh Morton earnestly. “I beg your pardon!” exclaimed one of the card players. “Don’t forget that Mr. Darleton is my friend, sir!” “I’ve not said anything behind his back that I am not ready to repeat to his face,” flung back Morton. “Well, you’d better be careful. He can fight.” “I think this is quite enough of this fighting talk!” said the man called Robbins sternly. “That’s right!” “Quit it!” “Choke off!” “It’s getting tiresome!” These exclamations came from various persons, and Darleton’s friend closed up at once. Morton looked both provoked and disgusted. “This is what the Darleton crowd is bringing us to,” he said, addressing Frank, in a low tone. “They have formed a clique and introduced the first jarring element into the club. In the end they’ll all get fired out on their necks.” Frank and Morton sat down in a corner by one of the round card tables. “I don’t mind Darleton’s talk,” protested Hugh, “for I reckon him as a big case of bluff. You called him last night, and he’s sore over it. Usually he makes his bluffs go at poker. He’ll find he can’t always make a bluff go in real life.” “You say he is a clever poker player.” “Clever or crooked.” “Is there a question in regard to his honesty?” “In some minds it’s more than a question.” “Is that right?” “That’s straight.” “Well, in that case, it doesn’t seem to me that it should be a very hard case to get rid of him.” “You mean——” “Crooks are not generally permitted in clubs for gentlemen.” “But no one has been able to catch him.” “Oh; then it is not positively known that he is crooked?” “Well, I am confident that there is something peculiar about his playing, and I’m not the only one who is confident. He wins right along.” “Never loses?” “Never more than a few dollars, while he frequently wins several hundred at a sitting.” “It seems to me that catching a dishonest poker player should not be such a difficult thing out in this country.” “We’ve had some of our cleverest card men watching him, and all have given it up. They say he may be crooked, but they can’t detect how he works the trick.” “You stated, I believe, that he never plays in the daytime.” “Never.” “Have you noted any other peculiar thing about his playing?” “No, nothing unless—unless——” “Unless what?”