McRaffle’s cold face flushed slightly, and he started to reply, but glanced quickly round the table and reconsidered. Steve was placidly shuffling the cards. No man likes to have his poker-game assailed, and Middleton and Thurston were no exceptions. “You’re outclassed, Captain,” said Steve. “I’d be riding that whitefoot bay of yours in a week, if you played with me.” “Make a jackpot and I’ll give you a chance,” said Middleton, firing up. Steve, as the winner, was not in a position to stop. The others had warmed up. “Yes—make it a jackpot, and let that decide which is the biggest blower,” laughed someone. Steve dealt and Middleton looked pleased, as he well might. None of the others had more than a pair, and they passed out. Steve had three hearts and a pair. He was about to throw the cards down when he caught Middleton’s look of content, and hesitated. “Come in,” laughed Middleton. Steve’s fingers tightened on his cards, and Middleton discarded two, showing that he held three of a kind. “I’ve got you beat,” he said. “Beat? I tell you, you don’t know the game,” said Steve, airily. He coolly discarded his pair. “I don’t? I’ll bet you a hundred dollars, I’ve got you beat.” Steve picked up two cards. “I’ll see you and raise you,” said he. “I bet you five hundred against your whitefoot horse you haven’t.” “Done,” said Middleton. “Keep your horse, boy,” said Steve. “I was the best poker player in my brigade.” He leaned over to put his cards down. But Middleton was game and was ahead of him. “It’s a bet,” he said, laying his hand on the table. There was a sigh from the others: he had three aces. Steve laid his beside them, and there was a shout. He had drawn a flush. “Now I’ll buy the horse back from you, if you wish it?” said Middleton. “Thank you. I’ve promised him to a lady,” said Steve. Next day Steve rode his new horse to Birdwood and, with a twinkle in his eyes, offered him to Blair. “How did you get him?” asked the girl. “Captured him,” laughed Steve. “Tell your friend not to play poker with me—or McRaffle,” he added. Blair’s eyes flashed and she attacked Steve vigorously. She would not have him offering to present her a part of his gaming-winnings. He was becoming a scandal to the neighborhood; leading the young men off. “Young Larry, for instance?” smiled Steve. “Or Captain McRaffle?” “No. You know very well whom I mean,” declared Blair. “Rupert thinks it fine to imitate you.” The smile was still on Steve’s face, and Blair paused to take breath; then half closing her eyes as if she were sighting carefully—“And couples your name with Captain McRaffle’s,” she added. A light of satisfaction came into her eyes as she saw the shaft go home. A deeper hue reddened Steve’s sunbrowned face. “Who was the young lady who bet me not long ago, against that very horse, that she would not dance with a certain Yankee Captain? Where’s her pious example?”