“I was right, but before the night was over we had more excitement than I had expected. We had had the supper and an abundance of good wine with it, and were sitting around the table enjoying some rarely good punch when somebody proposed poker. No one objected, and in a few minutes there were two games in progress, for there were eleven in the party. Six played at one table, and Martin and I and three others were at the other. The game was a fairly stiff one, ten dollars being the limit, and the cards ran well enough to build up some heavy pots. We had all indulged freely enough to give ourselves thoroughly to the enjoyment of the hour, though we had not been drinking heavily, and there wasn’t a man there under the influence. Altogether it was a delightful occasion. Suddenly the door opened, and Gilmartin looked in. “‘I don’t want to “rough in,” boys,’ he said, ‘but I stopped here to get supper on the way home, and the landlord told me you were here, so I thought I’d ask you to drink with me.’ “He was greeted heartily, for everybody knew and liked him, and a bumper of punch was poured out for him forthwith, his invitation being peremptorily laid on the table. Then, as a matter of course, it was suggested that he take a hand in the game, and he being more than willing, he sat at our table. “‘We’re playing ten-dollar limit, Gil,’ said one of the party, who knew that money was not always plentiful with the big fellow. But he laughed carelessly and said: ‘That’s all right,’ as he pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and bought chips. “Martin looked at him rather keenly, as I thought, for an instant, and said: “‘Been out to St. Paul to-night, Gil?’ “‘Yes, I have,’ said Gilmartin, and I was sure that I saw a half-laughing look of defiance on his face as he answered. It puzzled me at the moment, but I understood the question and answer afterward. Martin, it seemed, suspected that Gilmartin had perfected his arrangements to go electioneering, and that he had the money in his pocket with which he was expected to do his work. It was this that he had asked by implication, and Gilmartin, understanding him perfectly, and knowing that he could not keep his secret long from the other, had admitted it. As it proved, he had five thousand dollars in greenbacks with him.