"My half share of the claim,--of this yer house, you know,--one-half of
all that Dick Bullen calls our rotten starvation property," reiterated
Uncle Jim, with a half smile.
Uncle Billy laughed. It was a novel idea; it was, of course, "all in
the air," like the rest of their game, yet even then he had an odd
feeling that he would have liked Dick Bullen to have known it. "Wade
in, old pard," he said. "I'm on it."
Uncle Jim lit another candle to reinforce the fading light, and the
deal fell to Uncle Billy. He turned up Jack of clubs. He also turned
a little redder as he took up his cards, looked at them, and glanced
hastily at his partner. "It's no use playing," he said. "Look here!"
He laid down his cards on the table. They were the ace, king and queen
of clubs, and Jack of spades,--or left bower,--which, with the
turned-up Jack of clubs,--or right bower,--comprised all the winning
cards!
"By jingo! If we'd been playin' fourhanded, say you an' me agin some
other ducks, we'd have made 'four' in that deal, and h'isted some
money--eh?" and his eyes sparkled. Uncle Jim, also, had a slight
tremulous light in his own.
"Oh no! I didn't see no three crows this afternoon," added Uncle Billy
gleefully, as his partner, in turn, began to shuffle the cards with
laborious and conscientious exactitude. Then dealing, he turned up a
heart for trumps. Uncle Billy took up his cards one by one, but when
he had finished his face had become as pale as it had been red before.
"What's the matter?" said Uncle Jim quickly, his own face growing white.
Uncle Billy slowly and with breathless awe laid down his cards, face up
on the table. It was exactly the same sequence _in hearts_, with the
knave of diamonds added. He could again take every trick.
They stared at each other with vacant faces and a half-drawn smile of
fear. They could hear the wind moaning in the trees beyond; there was
a sudden rattling at the door. Uncle Billy started to his feet, but
Uncle Jim caught his arm. "_Don't leave the cards_! It's only the
wind; sit down," he said in a low awe-hushed voice, "it's your deal;
you were two before, and two now, that makes you four; you've only one
point to make to win the game. Go on."
They both poured out a cup of whiskey, smiling vaguely, yet with a
certain terror in their eyes. Their hands were cold; the cards slipped
from Uncle Billy's benumbed fingers; when he had shuffled them he
passed them to his partner to shuffle them also, but did not speak.
When Uncle Jim had shuffled them methodically he handed them back
fatefully to his partner. Uncle Billy dealt them with a trembling
hand. He turned up a club. "If you are sure of these tricks you know
you've won," said Uncle Jim in a voice that was scarcely audible.
Uncle Billy did not reply, but tremulously laid down the ace and right
and left bowers.
He had won!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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