When the cards were next dealt, Storm seemed to have rather an ordinary hand, so apparently had all the rest, and there was not much money in the pile. But, poor as Storm’s hand was, the rest appeared to be poorer, and he raked in the cash. This went on for two or three deals, and finding that, as Storm was winning all the time, although not heavily, I was not getting an object lesson against gambling, I made a move to go. “Stay where you are,” whispered Storm to me, pinching my knee with his hand so hard that I almost cried out. Then it came to the gambler’s turn to deal again. All the time he deftly shuffled the cards he watched the players with that furtive glance of his from out his half-shut eyes. Storm’s hand was a remarkable one, after he had drawn two cards, but I did not know whether it had any special value or not. The other players drew three cards each, and the gambler took one. “How much money have you got?” whispered Storm to me. “I don’t know,” I said, “perhaps a hundred pounds.” “Be prepared to lend me every penny of it,” he whispered. I said nothing; but I never knew the president of a society for the suppression of gambling to be in such a predicament. Storm bet a sovereign. The player to his left threw down his hand. The gambler pushed out two sovereigns. The other player went out. Storm said, “I see your bet, and raise you another sovereign.” The gambler, without saying a word, shoved forward some more gold. “Get your money ready,” whispered Storm to I did not quite like his tone, but I made allowance for the excitement under which he was evidently labouring. He threw on a five-pound note. The gambler put down another five-pound note, and then, as if it were the slightest thing possible, put a ten-pound note on top of that, which made the side players gasp. Storm had won sufficient to cover the bet and raise it. After that I had to feed in to him five-pound notes, keeping count of their number on my fingers as I did so. The first to begin to hesitate about putting money forward was the gambler. He shot a glance now and again from under his eyebrows at the young man opposite. Finally, when my last five-pound note had been thrown on the pile, the gambler spoke for the first time. “I call you,” he said. “Put down another five-pound note,” cried the young man. “I have called you,” said the gambler. Henry Storm half rose from his seat in his excitement. “Put down another five-pound note, if you dare.” “That isn’t poker,” said the gambler. “I have called you. What have you got?” “Put down another five-pound note, and I’ll put a ten-pound note on top of it.” “I say that isn’t poker. You have been called. What have you got?” “I’ll bet you twenty pounds against your five-pound note, if you dare put it down.” By this time Storm was standing up, quivering with excitement, his cards tightly clenched in his hand. The gambler sat opposite him calm and imperturbable. “What have you got?” said Storm.